The Second Chance Enchantment
by Silver Orbed Lioness
Summary: Desperate to escape The Marauders and a shattered heart Snape finds and invokes ancient symbols and finds himself in Hermione's 6th year. He then becomes Muggleborn Septimus Snape, a distant relation of Severus... but others are after her heart. Comac for one, Rabastan for another. Wild Flower Weasley Made the new cover x
1. Prologue

**AN** : Beta'd by the lovely **Vino Amore** \- The world of Harry Potter belongs to JK Rowling. I do not make a profit from writing this or any of my other stories.

Same **Fancasts** as always.

 **Rabastan Lestrange** \- Tom Hiddleston

 **Daphne Greengrass** \- Georgie Henley

 **Riddlemort** \- Aiden Turner

 **Young Severus** \- Alan Rickman (seen pictures recently, no one else can be Snape ...)

There **will be non-con** in this story. Warnings will come before each chapter that holds the triggers.

 **Pairings** : Young!Severus/Hermione, Professor Snape/Hermione, Rabastan Lestrange/Hermione, one sided on his part Cormac/Hermione. Ginny/Harry, Ginny/Dean. One sided on her part Cho/Harry. Ron/Lavender. Daphne/Neville.

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 **The Second Chance Enchantment**

Prologue

 **HOGWARTS: 15th May 1977**

Hiding, he hated his life. Especially now he had lost the only friend he ever had due to one moment of weakness. Although, on reflection, she did say there were other things she was starting to not like about his taste for darkness. But he loved her. Always would. Will forever! Now he was huddled against the rocky walls of the castle he loved too. The storge kind of love. Keeping quiet and huddled in on himself he heard a set of steps running past his concealment.

"Not here!" the voice of Black. Despicable Black who claimed to hate violence yet did not seem to have any qualms on using it against him. "Seen him, Jimmy?"

"I told you, Sirius I am getting fed up with this."

Yeah right! The boy thought through his silent sobbing, when was this torture going to stop? "Remus?" Black persisted.

"I am with James," the Werewolf sighed. "This is just wrong and childish now." If the tormented had any level of respect for these people it was Remus. When they had moments alone in the Library at least the shy, reserved Gryffindor took time out to try and make up any kind of bullying that may come next. "We're nearly adults, Sirius, we should behave like it."

"Peter?"

"Sorry guys," the smallest one said. "Not here. Shame."

"What are you doing?" the beautiful torturous tones of the only Witch he could ever love. "James, I _swear_ if you are out looking for Severus to hurt him you're dumped!"

"I'm not, Lily, I was telling Sirius we should stop it. Maybe," Potter's tone became harsh, "we should never have begun it."

"I've been saying that the moment you did."

"Look, Lil," the boy hiding himself shuddered. Lily, he ground his teeth. Her name is Lily. "This is the last time before the N.E.W.T.S."

"Oh yeah and you're going to pass them by hunting Severus down and hurting him!"

"I thought you hated him too now," whinged Black.

"No, Sirius, I don't." Lily said calmly. "I have more history with him than with you. I grew up with him, remember. We went to a Muggle school together, he slept in my house when his father was extra violent and he defended me – you can't switch off that easily!"

"But you're going out with me," James said.

"Does that mean, to be your girlfriend, I have to hate Severus?" The boy wiped the tears away. It was a relief to find out that Lily did not truly despise him but it still stung that she would never love him. "Well?"

"Everyone knows he's going to be a Dark Lord cronie," moaned Black.

"If you lot were nicer to him maybe he would not have been so dark!" Lily growled. "You, of all people Black, should know what it was like being in an abusive home! _You_ should have befriended him rather than alienated him!"

Daring somewhat to peek through the door he saw Lily standing there – so beautiful. Dazzling emerald green eyes. Long flowing red hair. Facing the four boys who had taken it upon their shoulders to make his life a living hell.

"He called you that word!"

"Yes, he did, but that was only because you were provoking him."

"Lil..."

"It's Lily," she snapped and effortlessly spun on her heel. "I hate Lil – it makes me sound old!"

"You act old," Black grumbled. That was it, Severus knew this was childish but he charmed Black's shoelaces to tie together in knots and he watched with immense satisfaction that Black tripped and landed flat on his face causing him to bleed. "Who did that?" he groaned. "Potter, did you?"

"Yeah because he's jealous of your good looks," said Pettigrew.

He watched as the three of them picked Black up and took him to the Hospital Wing to patch his face up. Only when they were out of sight he stepped out. As he crept out he did not see that someone had returned: "Severus," it was Lily. He spun around. A lump caught in his throat. She always managed to say his name softly making him feel ten feet tall. "I knew you were there," she sighed. "Did you do that to Black?"

"I could hardly stay there the whole night," he snapped. "Sorry, Lily," he murmured. "I wish we could go back in time."

"There are time turners but I doubt one could take us two years to that day."

"I don't know what else I can do to make amends," he hung his head and he felt Lily's fingers brush aside his hair. "I really am so sorry – I miss you, sweet heart."

Her fingers froze as he called her what he did in their fourth year. The year they realised their friendship may have a chance to develop. "I miss you too, Severus, but we cannot. The divide is strongly marked now."

"Does it have to be?" he looked up hopeful. "My heart – my feelings – they are still the same, I still love you."

"Our friends..."

"Friends," he sneered. "Those people you claim are my friends are not. They speak down to me as much as those thugs do. You were the only true friend I ever had, Lily. I want to marry you, not your friends."

Lily cried. Tears fell down her cheeks as she pulled Severus by the front of his robes and hugged him. Fiercely clutched onto him. "I wish I could, Severus, but do you really think your friends would feel comfortable with me around?"

"I told..."

"It does not matter – the fact remains you still hang around with them."

"I-I-I've invented the counter-curse to _Sectumsempra_ ," Severus said hoping this would sway her, "It is a horrid spell I know now it is."

Lily glanced in his eyes and nodded: "I believe you," she sighed cupping his cheek. "But you've got to understand," she tilted his chin up. "When we were kids, you said there was nothing wrong with being a Muggleborn and then you get sorted into Slytherin," he was about to speak. "That was fine but then you get drawn further and further into the likes of Avery, Lestrange, Malfoy, the other side of the Black family – you eagerly read the legal dark texts in the library devouring them with your keen eyes," sighing deeply, Lily wanted to kiss him – wished that was all it took but she knew better. Both were too stubborn to back down. "Then I defend you and..." she circled her wrist, "that hurt me, Severus. It was like you used that curse on my heart not because of the word," her tears fell freely, "but because it was _you_ that said it."

"I did not mean it."

"I know but it was said," Lily said sadly. "I wanted to be yours – I was going to try and take our relationship to the next level when we returned home but you broke my heart."

"So, that's it," he sniffed. "When we leave school you'll become Mrs Potter and I will be alone."

"I heard Narcissa B..."

"Lucius Malfoy."

"Okay, Bella..."

"Don't insult me, Lily. The only girl I want is you," he shook his head sadly. "I doubt there will ever be another you."

"I will make love with you," she offered, "one night when school's finished."

"That is like dangling the carrot in front of the horse that bolted," Severus sighed. Lily nodded in agreement. "Just promise me one thing," he said.

"What is that?"

"Call at least one of your children, Severus?" his smile twisted and there was the spark that once was. "If I ever become a teacher it will fill me with great satisfaction."

Chuckling Lily hugged him into her: "I doubt James would like that but I kind of love the idea," she sniffed him in, "there is someone out there for you, Severus, when you find her don't push her away. Allow her in, take her and respect her. And call your daughter Lily?"

The two old friends/almost lovers parted and shook hands at arms length smiling: "It's a deal," Severus said. "Though I doubt I will get anyone to fulfil my side of the bargain."

"You will," Lily said, "deep down inside you are a good person, Severus, but I just cannot be with you after..."

"I promise to never use the term again," Severus said, "I suppose that is the least I can do."

"It's enough."

Slowly and reluctantly they withdrew from each other. Once Lily walked off. Hiding how heartbroken she genuinely was, Lily ran up the stairs to Gryffindor tower, whilst Severus walked around the shadows of the castle. His friend was the darkness. Dank must was his constant companion. As he made it further into the labyrinthine corridors of Hogwarts he reflected on what she said. If he had known he would have kept his temper. Surely there was some way to look into peoples minds. Occlumency clouded thoughts but there had to be a way to gaze into peoples eyes to see their true intentions. Eventually, he got so lost that he wondered if he would make it back to the Slytherin common room where yet more teasing was awaiting him. Oh rapturous joy, he sneered. If I become a teacher the pupils won't know what hit them. He grinned at the prospect of torturing Potter's boys though he may go easy on the girls. He hated when grown men made little girls cry.

Eventually he got to such a decrepit part of the building that even magic could not keep it up and there, he saw something. A mark on the stone wall. Stroking around the outline Severus brought out his notebook and copied it with an enchanted quill to fill with ink. Yet another of his ideas that Lily helped with. With a Lumos on his wand he sat there examining the strange rune and he translated it. An old spell. His magic core shivered with excited anticipation. If only Lily could see this. Ancient Runes was something she adored and this would be an ultimate gift to her when he got it right.

Though, he frowned, nothing was given away about what the spell the runic marks did. Hmm, oh well, he shrugged. Since when was he terrified of trying a new or undiscovered enchantment? Steeling himself, sucking his breath over his teeth he closed his eyes. Then he weaved the shape of the runes with his wand speaking the incantation in as close to a translation as he possibly could. If nothing happened then he would know why it was buried this deep within. Though he was not sure. Nothing happened.

Try again, Severus. Intricate weaving of the runes as well as a more self-assured cantrip he watched silver weave their way through golden canvas. Lighting up the entire area of the old section. As the runes stood clear and bright. Wow, he breathed, this was beautiful. Almost as wonderful as a perfect potion. The young man stood up and stepped under the hovering runes. Then he felt his stomach twist inside...

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 **AN** : Hermione's love life in this story will be like a roller coaster, so buckle up!


	2. The Lions Den

**AN** : Thank you for all the reviews and interest so far x Again, I must remind you that this story would not be possible without the wonderful imagination of JK Rowling.

The story starts now. I hope nothing said in here confuses you. I am a huge Doctor Who fan - so I am used to convoluted Time Paradox stories.

Again I must thank **Vino Amore** for tidying up and adding a few bits x

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 **The Second Chance Enchantment**

 **The Lions Den**

 **HOGWARTS: OCTOBER 3RD 1996**

Next thing he knew he was back where he had been before, where Lily had told him where they stood now in their relationship. I.E. Over. The fact that she was prepared to still offer her body to him for one night, for old times sake, was an offer he had to refuse. That would not be fair to either of them. Ah well, he shrugged, at least I can find my way to the Dungeons from here. Get some sleep!

"Hello?" a voice he did not recognise greeted from behind him. "Prof..." he turned around and saw a wild haired, otherwise neatly presented, Gryffindor Witch stand in open-mouthed shock. Clutching onto two slim volumes. Quill's supporting her ill contained plait. The satchel settling across her chest and lying on her hip. Slight. Soft cheeks. Pride sparkled within. Severus never believed in love at first sight but this Witch could easily prove him wrong. "Sorry, I thought you were someone else, can I help you?"

Beautiful, he immediately liked her. Would be hers by a snap of her light fair fingers. So glorious. Severus felt his breath hitch in his throat. "I don't believe I've seen you around before?" he asked. Surely he would have remembered a lovely Witch like her. "I'm Severus Snape."

Silently, the girl nodded still almost dumbstruck by the young Wizard in front of her. Snap out of it, Granger, she scolded within. Then she gathered her wits together and blinked: "Hermione Granger," she offered her hand and then quickly withdrew it when she saw the Slytherin emblem on the not-quite stranger's robes. An unruly lock of hair fell down her forehead and Severus itched to move it, but Hermione managed to sweep it to the side whilst observing him. "Granger, if you prefer."

"Why did you take your hand away?" he asked with a scowl. The one he would sport permanently when looking at her.

"You're a Slytherin," she said. "Sorry, I'm a Muggleborn," she shook her head – she could not have heard correctly. For one silly moment she thought he said, Severus Snape. With that admission Severus watched in horror as she was making her way to leave. The young Witch was breathtakingly stunning. He wasn't about to let her go. Not now, not ever.

"So?" the young man said harsher than he intended to. Slowly, she stopped, turned around and tilted her head. Curious eyes appraised him. Offering his hand back he waited with painful anticipation. He watched her smile – dimples, how adorable. She offered her hand again. After a firm shake he drew her hand up. Suavely he kissed the back of her knuckles and gauged her reaction. "You're pretty when you blush, has anyone told you that?"

Coughing with shy embarrassment Hermione shook her head. "All right, Malfoy," she withdrew her hand coldly, "if this is some path..."

"Malfoy's here?" the supposed Snape said whipping his head around in horror and jumped in front of her with his wand out.

"You're in Slytherin," she pointed out, "of _course_ Malfoy's here," the girl said. "Okay," she took hold of his arm and he turned around. "For the sake of argument, let's just agree you are Prof... Severus Snape," she smiled again. Sweet Circe, Severus moaned. Please let her not have a boyfriend. "Let's take you to Headmaster Dumbledore," her voice softened. Gorgeous.

"Terrific," the boy groaned out sarcastically.

"He's a brilliant man," the girl bristled.

"He is," Severus said in agreement. Such a passionate young woman. Something of Lily. Could this be a relation of hers in some way? "I do not dispute that but he is a cunning and interfering devil."

Delightfully, the girl chuckled lighting up those whiskey coloured eyes: "That's putting it politely," she said as she took his hand and threaded her fingers through his. The warm feeling spread all around his body. "So, you claim you are Prof... Severus Snape," she tilted her head and worried her lower lip as they made their way through a short cut.

Moments later they stood outside the Headmaster's office. Ignoring the surly Gargoyle Guard. Staring intently into each other's equally intelligent gaze. A shift happened to Hermione's stomach as the Whitby Jet eyes she admired so much pierced into hers. All Severus could do was blush as she took hold of his other hand in hers.

"Yes?" the Gargoyle snapped. "We haven't got all day."

"Parma Violets!" Hermione said. "His latest favourite," she confided to the boy who said he was Severus Snape.

"Why do you keep hold of my hand?" Severus asked bemused.

"I do not want you lost," she replied gently.

"I know where the Headmaster's office is – I _do_ go to this school. I believe you will find I am about to go for my N.E.W.T.S."

"I am in my Sixth year but it's October," Severus sighed at her admission and groaned as he realised he may have to do all his studying again. Though how did he get flung back in time to the start of the year? That still did not account for not ever seeing this vision that stood half a foot shorter than him. So little yet she could make her presence known quite easily if she wanted to. Still, if it meant he could spend time in this Witch's company. A Witch that held a similar aura to Lily. Then so be it. "Though I am sure I still would have known if..."

They reached the door where Albus Wulfric blah blah blah Dumbledore resided. "Yes, Miss Granger and... well I never!" the Headmaster blinked, staggered and swayed back to his seat.

That was something Severus thought he would never see. The Headmaster capitulating from bemused astonishment. "Headmaster," the girl said in a no-nonsense tone that amused the boy greatly. "This young Wizard _claims_ to be Severus Snape – but I think it's Draco Malfoy playing a trick with some really clever glamour's."

 _Draco_ Malfoy? The young man scowled. No, surely she meant Lucius. There was no such person as Draco Malfoy. "Miss Granger," the Headmaster offered a seat then picked up a bowl of round purple sweets: "Parma Violets?"

Eagerly the Witch grabbed a handful: "Don't mind if I do," she grinned mischievously. Then with another little tinge to her cheeks she turned to her companion: "Sorry, it's just that my parents are dentists and I only get to eat sweets at school."

"Is that why your smile is so lovely?"

Oh dear lords of all Elves, she sighed. "See what I mean, Headmaster."

"No, Miss Granger, do _you_ not see?" the Headmaster sighed – his periwinkle eyes sparkling with a playfulness that made Hermione beam.

With narrowed eyes, Hermione appraised the profile of the boy next to her. The one who had not let go of her hand, like she had not released his. Draco Malfoy would not be able to play this up for such a long period of time.

"I do not understand," she furrowed her brow and chewed her lower lip. Was this the one Lily said I should be with? Severus wondered. "How could he be..." she circled her free hand the same way Lily did moments before.

"This is, indeed, Severus Snape," the Headmaster said, "a flesh and blood young Wizard version of Severus Snape."

"What do you mean young Wizard version?" the boy said taking a proffered Parma Violet from Hermione and sucking it in his mouth. "I will always be a Wizard," his eyes widened. "Won't I? Where am I?"

"Hogwarts, dear fellow," the Headmaster chuckled. "Still Hogwarts."

"The way Hermione is gawping, she looks like the Bloody Baron shot right through her."

"We will have to tell him, Sir," Hermione said shaking her head. The gawping comment made her believe this was, indeed, a 17 year old less bitter version of Professor Snape. What is he going to say when face... no, he cannot face himself. "If only to prevent mishaps."

"Wise words, Miss Granger," Dumbledore sighed. "You, of all people, should understand the delicacy of the situation."

"Yes, Sir," her voice was so warm Severus wanted to hear it forever. "I think I had better inform him."

"I am all ears," Severus said turning in his seat to face the gorgeous Gryffindor next to him. All eyes. All yours. "What is it?"

"Well," she darted an uncertain look towards the Headmaster who urged her to continue with a nod. "I almost called you Professor because, you see, you are a Professor here, now."

"WHAT?" the boy roared but with happiness rather than anger. "Excellent, what do I teach?" he was eager.

"It used to be Potions but now it's D. ."

"Wicked!" the young Snape grinned from ear to ear. "My favourite subjects apart from Ancient Runes."

"Really?" the girl squealed. "I adore Ancient Runes!"

"M-m-maybe we can work together sometime."

"Ah!" Dumbledore lifted up the hand to make the two youngsters turn around and look at him – both modifying their expressions from eager beavers to profound respect. "That may not be possible," the Headmaster sighed. Oh Gods, this was not going to be easy. "We have to reassert the timeline and send young Severus back to where he came from."

"Back, what do you mean reasserting timelines?"

"You, dear boy, have somehow landed in the future. Two decades have passed."

"What?"

"Sorry, Prof... Severus," Hermione took his hand in hers and squeezed it to reassure him. "But this is 1996," she sighed. Grabbing the Daily Prophet and tapping the date: "October 3rd 1996," as if to clarify.

"How did I get here?" Severus scratched his head with his free hand.

"What did you do to get here, dear chap?"

"I don't know," Severus said taking out a notebook that Hermione narrowed her eyes at. The very same that Harry was now harbouring protectively around his chest. Ron told her he reads it constantly. It was Snapes... but... "I had just finished hiding from the Marauders," he sheepishly looked at Hermione, "four boys who insist on making my life miserable," he said. A lump formed in Hermione's throat. Maybe it was six of one half a dozen of the other. "I came out of my hiding place and Li..." he broke into tears, "sorry, Hermione," he tried to hide them but Hermione tilted his chin up and made him look in her eyes.

"Never be afraid to cry," she sighed as she whipped out a handkerchief with her wand and knelt down below him tenderly dabbing the tears away. The way Lily used to. "My father says a real man is not afraid of tears."

Smiling through his sadness he vowed, in his heart, to take her back with him. Only he could have this Witch. If he could no longer have Lily, he would have this one. Damn the rules! Their auras, the core was so similar. She had to be the right one for him. This was a Gryffindor Muggleborn who had purposefully respected the no touching rule when she saw the Snake on his robes. A Muggleborn who was now touching him with such warmth he could melt.

"L-Lily," he stammered, "I tried to make it up to her after something I did to her that was enormously dunderheaded of me."

"All right," Hermione smirked, "now I _know_ you are the younger version of Severus Snape."

What was in that sentence that made her now believe him? Shrugging his shoulders he glanced down at the Witch still kneeling before him gazing up at him: "You might want to sit down," he said, "I am sure that I am not exactly flattering from that angle."

Laughter. She giggled so sweetly. "No?" she said in the form of a teasing question, "unless you hadn't noticed, I am not exactly Play Wizard of the Month Double Page Spread, myself."

"Who says you're not?"

"The older you for a start!"

"Do I really grow old and senile?"

"Not senile and not old, yet."

"Blind then?"

Merlin on a Thestral this Severus was adorable, Hermione sighed. Why couldn't other Wizards talk to her like this? "Your eyesight is as effective as ever."

"Idiotic then," he smiled through coy dark lashes.

Shaking her head Hermione wondered if it was entirely inappropriate to sit on his lap and crush her lips to his in passions embrace in front of the Headmaster. Ultimately, she decided, not to give in to temptation.

"We're digressing," she tried to sound business like again but her throat was too constricted now for anything but a sensual whisper. "How did you manage to get here?"

"After Lily and I made a tentative pact I began wondering around the darker elements of the school as I love to do, it keeps me lost in my own world and the Slytherin Common Room is not exactly fairy lights and Christmas."

Another dark chuckle came from the lovely golden Witch beside him: "I gather it can't be."

All the Headmaster did was just observe these two. He had known it all along that Severus did not hate the young Witch. Every time Professor Snape had to patch her up he treated her kindlier than anyone else.

"Well," he opened the book to a page towards the end. "In the depths of velvet blackness I found these marks," he proffered the book to her and she traced the markings exactly the way he did. Through dark eyelashes he saw how her breath hitched. Whiskey eyes glowing. Lips parted as she studied the markings. "I thought I'd translate and see what it did."

"Some would say that was idiotic," Hermione said.

"Who?"

"The older you."

"I don't think I like the older me he sounds horrible."

Shaking her head clear of the laugh rising within, Hermione remembered the Back to the Future films she watched constantly. Wearing out at least five VHS tapes!

"What do we do, Headmaster?" she asked as he was finally allowed to peruse the markings.

"Alas," he said, "there is nothing we can do."

"Why?"

"This is out of my hands completely."

Yes, he has not changed – the young Severus sighed: "What is it, Sir?" Hermione's voice held an impatient edge to it.

"These runes were carved by Salazar Slytherin himself," the Headmaster said, "after he made a fatal error," he glanced between the two youths before him. This was going to be a headache and in a year he could not take it. Still, Miss Granger was a Witch that offered the right sort of gung-ho spirit. "There is no modern translation but the best way to describe the runic cantrip is," the students were on the edge of their seats. "The Second Chance Enchantment."

The atmosphere was palpable – Hermione could almost taste it. Something about the air crackled. Cogs turned in her head as she wondered what Salazar Slytherin did that was so awful he felt he needed another chance to get things right.

"But," Hermione finally found her voice, "how does that make you travel through time."

"It does not, per se," the Headmaster said. "It just takes you to the place where the incantation means you to be to gain your second chance."

"What happens if you fail your second chance?" Severus asked.

Albus cocked his wizened head to the side observing the younger Severus before him: "This is Slytherin we're talking about here," he said carefully.

Shivering Hermione remembered the Basilisk: "Nothing good then?" she said turning to Severus with sympathy. Then annoyance. "Why did you not take the markings to Dumbledore then, before you..."

Severus shrugged his shoulders: "Normally, I would have been cautious," he said gazing up at a now standing tall Gryffindor blazing with fury. Magnificent in her concern. "I just wanted out of there. Away from the bullies. Away from heartbreak and away from pain!"

Immediately, Hermione softened towards him and wrapped her arms around his neck, as her heart broke for him. "I'm sorry," she shuddered against his body.

Severus stood up and hugged her in return revelling in this kind-hearted Witch's embrace. Burying his long fingers in her masses of wild hair. Nice to know that he was not the only one with rebellious follicles.

"It's not your fault, why are you sorry?"

"I just... feel..."

"Miss Granger is a genuine personality, Mr Snape," Dumbledore did not feel as if he should ever have uttered that again but he was now forced to. "Now how are we..."

"I have an idea," Hermione said.

"Proceed," the Headmaster said waving his hand to Hermione allowing her the floor. Not that Severus minded, he could look in those lovely eyes forever, hear her enthusiastic tone for eternity: "You are entitled."

"We can Sort him," she said looking at the hat wondering how it could be persuaded to get into Gryffindor. "Then we can say that he was forbidden to come to Hogwarts because of his strict religious Parents who refused to believe in his powers – so he had to be surreptitiously taught by visiting tutors," Severus was listening rapt in attention as this girl was weaving a tale worthy for a Slytherin. Please, he sighed, let her not have met Lucius Malfoy. "Then his parents die – car crash – and he was finally free to come to Hogwarts."

"How are we to bypass the fact that the older me will know it is him he is teaching?" Severus pointed out the flaw.

"Simple," she shrugged. "We tell him what has happened."

"That is not a good idea," he sighed.

"No, don't you see, it's beautifully intriguing," the light danced in her eyes as her mouth parted with excitement: "My mum has often bemoaned the fact that she will never get the chance to meet her teenage self and give herself a slap in the head for making the mistakes she made, though she would not go into the mistakes. The Second Chance Runes are going to do just that," she rushed to Severus gushing over him. It did wonders for his confidence: "We tell the older you what is going on – he can teach you all you need to know – perhaps the Headmaster can help you with your N.E.W.T.S for the curriculum as it was then so when you get back to the exact time and place you won't have missed out," then she grabbed his hands and walked him around the Office. I will follow you, he sighed. I need not be physically led. "This is wonderful," she laughed, "I can help by bringing the text books from the Library as I noticed you only have your notebook," Severus mind was blurring with only the vision of her being enthusiastic in other matters. "I can also collate parchments and quills. Potions you need no help in as you're bloody brilliant at them."

"Wow," he let out a breath.

"What?"

"I was wrong."

Suddenly Hermione stiffened, oh dear she was too happy. She knew he hated people being joyful around him. "In what way?"

"Now you're positively wonderful!"

If Hermione was the swooning type she would have collapsed in Severus' arms right about now. Why could he not stay like this? If he was still this kind after his heartbreak then how did he grow so bitter? "Thank you," she blushed in a quiet voice. "Um," she shook her lovely mane of hair. "Anyway," she coughed, "if anyone sees you, which I hope no one does," she realised she had said the wrong thing because the light fell from his eyes. "No," she gasped horrified. "I said that because that would provoke awkward questions for you," she sighed. Please don't be mad at me, her honest eyes widened. Eventually, the gleam crept back into the pupils. "Just say you are Septimus Snape."

"Septimus?" Severus scowled folding his arms. Causing Hermione to giggle. " _Now_ what is funny?"

"That part of you has not changed," she said. "You still thunderously scowl and fold your arms like that."

Immediately, the young Severus dropped his arms and tried to put a less frustrated expression on his face. "So, why Septimus?"

"Septimus Severus – ancient Roman Emperor. Died in Yorkshire. Repented of his crimes against Christianity."

"Genius!" Severus hugged Hermione. "Has anyone told you that?"

"Often and not you!"

"I sound like a right bastard."

Behind them Albus chuckled: "That is the general consensus of all the students you teach, Mr Snape."

"Add me to the list!"

Giggling Hermione looked at the young Severus: "Obviously, due to the fact that it is you and people are not that idiotic," she rolled her eyes, "you can say you're like a third or fourth cousin removed or something. Obscure, but still believable," she worried her lower lip, "enough, at least, to show the genetics through to such an extent."

"That may work," he said, "but where can I stay?"

"Here," the Headmaster offered.

"No offence, but your predilection does not make me comfortable with that proposition."

"Predi... Oh," Hermione swung to glance at her Headmaster. "I see."

Albus waved it off unconcerned. Severus was a true friend of his and knew the youth in front of him meant nothing judgemental by his attitude.

"But what if I get put in Slytherin. Won't that be awkward?"

"The Second Chance Spell," Hermione said confidently, "it may put you in Ravenclaw!"

"You're not in Ravenclaw, though you should be."

Blushing again Hermione gazed into the young Severus' eyes: "I was _almost_ put in Ravenclaw but the Hat settled on Gryffindor."

"Dunderheaded piece of cloth!"

"Stop it," she stifled a chortle, "you're sounding like a parody of yourself."

The Headmaster sighed – this could only end badly if he did not cut in right now. But this was _Mr_ Snape. He had not yet had the final pieces of his heart shattered. This Snape still held out hope. He would have to tell Miss Granger not to give him any false hopes.

"So," she sighed, "we should probably get Professor Snape up here now, Headmaster – this won't work without his co-operation."

"I'll co-operate!" young Severus said puffing out his chest.

"Hmm, wait until you meet you."

The Headmaster chortled, he supposed this was a different sort of magic to the Time Turner and Miss Granger was right. There was no point in delaying the inevitable. That map may give them away any moment and before long young Potter and Weasley would find their friend hugging the younger version of their least favourite individual. Walking to the fire place he took a pot from the mantel piece.

"Let's hide," Hermione said as an extra spurt of childish playfulness took over her. Yes, Severus smiled in return. He had a lovely smile, Hermione sighed. Grabbing his hand again she ran around the back of the Headmaster's desk and crouched down with Severus.

"You're fit, you know that?" he whispered.

Lowering her eyes Hermione edged closer to Severus. "Despite how mean you are to me in the future, remember that I respect you."

"Why?"

"Because you're a clever, intelligent, highly knowledgeable being. All I ever want is to impress you," she confessed. "I never succeed."

"I am an utter prat, aren't I?"

"No," she hissed quickly. "Just, there are extenuating circumstances..." she started but could not finish as Dumbledore glared at the desk and both felt it.

"Professor Snape," he shoved his head in the fireplace.

Eventually, Professor Snape's voice was heard. "Yes, Headmaster?"

"I sound like that?" the boy mouthed. Hermione nodded urging him to remain quiet.

"Can you come through please, a rather unusual situation has arisen, brought to my attention by Miss Granger."

"I am not in the mood for entertaining silly girls notions."

"You respect that?" the boy frowned.

"Professor, you do not have to pretend around me, you know."

Now it was Hermione's turn to furrow her brow. "What did that mean?" the boy Severus mouthed. Shrugging Hermione waited for the response.

"Fine," his voice had softened. "I am sorry, Headmaster. You know why I feel … odd about her."

"Deja-Vu," the Headmaster sighed, "well, this may be why."

"It is more than deja-vu, Headmaster."

"Just step through, young man!"

"So I am grumpy and stubborn?" Young Severus whispered tickling Hermione's ear. Deliciously so, she shivered with joy. Even his young voice was almost sinful.

They both heard the thud of heavy boots and black robes. The young Severus peered around and gulped: "He's scary," he mouthed.

"That's the point," Hermione mouthed back.

The Headmaster turned to the desk. "Miss Granger, you can come out now."

"Good luck," young Severus said squeezing her shoulder.

"Thanks," she murmured back.

"What is this all about, Miss Granger?" Professor Snape huffed out folding his arms, a move that normally silenced her but instead it made her giggle.

"Sorry, Sir, I will try and keep a straight face."

"I have not got all night and neither have you. I am sure Weasley's homework needs correcting at some point."

Flushing Hermione muttered something under her breath about how Weasley can do his own bloody homework. Looking her Professor directly in the eye as a way to stabilise her need to collapse in a euphoric hysteria.

"Um, I was doing my rounds and I came across what I thought was you, and well," she indicated to the back of the desk. "Come on, you're going to have face yourself at some point."

"What do you mean face myself, Miss Granger, what nonsense have those twins been testing on you?"

Slowly, the young Severus walked sheepishly around the desk latching onto Hermione's hand straight away trying not to look at what he becomes. With a gasp the young man ducked behind Hermione.

"Very funny, you and Potter..."

Potter? She knew a Potter? "No, Sir, this is you. _Younger_ you."

Younger Severus gulped and stayed behind Hermione. "Show him the notebook, Sev – er, Snape," she said. It was hard not to call him by his first name when the Professor version of him was feet away. "Give it to me," she snatched it out of the youth's quivering hands. Then gave it to the Professor. "There," she said. "The date of the last note, you were thorough."

"Am thorough."

"Yes, Sir," she said meekly. The younger Severus stepped shyly around but still glued to Hermione's side.

Was I really … no, he thought, a young me would latch on to someone like Miss Granger, it's probably why I find her infuriating now. "Do you remember stumbling across those runes, Sir?"

"Like it was yesterday," the older Snape sighed nostalgically. The book was a little dog eared but there were still empty pages. "So, what are you suggesting?"

"According to the Headmaster those runes were carved into a now disused and decrepit part of the school, the young you was hiding from... well..." she wisely chose not to elaborate. "He – You – Copied the runes and rather foolhardily Gryffindor like, did the spell and hey presto," she felt silly for saying that but she felt like lightening the mood. "Here," she indicated the younger him, "you are," she rolled her eyes as the dour Professor dared not raise a smirk whereas the younger him was just looking at the Witch in wondrous amazement. "The Headmaster said that Salazar himself carved those runes into the school because of something awful he did and the loose translation is The Second Chance Enchantment."

The Professor version of Snape arched an eyebrow. All right, he would go with this. "So, we just find the counter charm and send young me back," he said.

"No," Hermione continued, the Headmaster seemed gratified that she was taking the floor. As if this was suddenly her responsibility. "It does not work like that, you see," she sighed, "younger you can only be sent back if you play out the Second Chance Enchantment – we," she indicated the four of them with an airy gesture, "will have to research the consequences if it fails so we can prevent any fatal consequences to the timeline."

"What do you suggest young me should do in the meantime, Miss Granger?" his tone was snippy but not his usual sigh of annoyance.

"Get him sorted," she shrugged her shoulders, "we have worked out a backstory between us of overtly religious Muggle parents, so younger you will have to be a mudblood..."

"WHO CALLED YOU THAT?" roared the younger Severus jerking her around violently. "WHO?"

"Calm down," Hermione said in a soothing tone, "it's a term – I'm used to it."

"Not the point," younger him hissed, "you shouldn't _have_ to get used to it!"

Glancing at the Professor version reaction he seemed to be almost as furious with her for using the word on herself. Now she had a headache but she had to carry on. "Anyway," she continued as if nothing happened, "younger you will have to be a Muggleborn – I hope he won't be seen by anyone else," she said, "but in case you feel he should be mingling, the younger you name is Septimus," she continued, floundering a little because she was not used to saying this much in front of the Professor. "He is your third or fourth cousin removed – you can decide on the obscurity of the connection but he has to be a Snape – I refuse to pull a glamour. A few little lies as long as we are all in agreement and can stick to them should be fine."

"You forget, Miss Granger, you are not that good a liar."

"If the story is collaborated by the four of us, it need not be a lie, Sir," she volleyed back.

Now the Professor stumbled backward. Never had she almost floored him with a good come back: "Very well," he said, "how do we account for younger me magical schooling?"

"Surreptitiously privately tutored, under the guise of Muggle After School activities."

Was that a quirk of the lips in a smile: "What else have you managed to come up with in such a short space of time?" he sneered.

"Hey, what has she ever done to make you hate her?" the younger him scowled back.

The Headmaster just sat behind his desk popping Parma Violets in his mouth enjoying the show.

"Constantly being a thorn in my side for one."

"Yes because you always push people away that you should like and go to those who secretly despise you! Do you _really_ think Lucius Malfoy and Narcissa Black _actually_ like you?"

Hermione shook her head in warning to the younger Severus: "Careful," she warned. "The older you won't be above punishing you."

"Great, so I turn out like my _darling_ daddy!"

"I am nothing like my – our – father!" older Snape growled.

"Prove it!"

Yikes, Hermione turned to look at the Headmaster. What she was witnessing was so surreal and yet so profound she felt at once awkward and privileged. "Back on track," she rolled her eyes trying to stop the older Professor creating a paradox by killing his younger self. "I thought that the Headmaster could privately tutor the younger you in the N.E.W.T.S that he should be taking – you can teach him other things he will need to know. I will bring up the appropriate text books from the library and bring up writing tools."

The older Snape turned slowly to the young Witch. "Now who is the thorough one," he said. "I assume he is to stay in the house that he is sorted in."

"Um," Hermione chewed her lower lip hopping from foot to foot. "Well, that may not be a good idea. I wonder if," she glanced at the Headmaster, "are there any private rooms he can stay in?"

"No," the younger Severus said. "I'll take my chances with the sorting."

"Um," Hermione worried her lower lip.

"I think that's cute when you do that." Oh great, she glared at the ground. "What year are you in, again?"

"Sixth Year," she whispered.

"Shame," he said tucking hair behind her ear.

"That's enough," the Professor felt distinctly uncomfortable watching his younger self flirt with Miss Granger. Not that, in another life, he would not have done the same thing at some more appropriate time. "Headmaster?"

"Yes," the Headmaster brought the Hat down who seemed to have let out a sigh.

"Oh," it said when it was placed on younger Severus' head, "you again. Yes," it murmured. "Though you are, essentially, a Slytherin I would … yes. Definitely more courage than before. More sadness. There is something there... keen intellect, may do well in Ravenclaw but," the hat mused – Hermione watched gripping onto her skirt in fistfuls bringing the hemline up her thigh and the older Professor watched the younger Severus arch an eyebrow at how lovely her legs were. "I see something else," the hat said, "I see I was wrong – that you should have been," Hermione had not felt this sick since she was, herself, sorted. "Now you can be..." with her heart thudding in her chest she did not realise her skirt was near her knickers. Professor Snape tapped her hands away and Hermione blushed and said sorry. "GRYFFINDOR!" the Hat hollered.

"Got the back story covered for Potter and Weasley, have you?" the Professor sneered.

Shrugging Hermione said: "I do not presume on what the ethics are in Slytherin, Sir, but in Gryffindor _we_ look after each other."

"Septimus Snape," Headmaster Dumbledore sighed. The Professor version directed a cold glittering gaze at Albus. The old coot was enjoying what mayhem this would cause. "Welcome to Hogwarts."

"Come on," she grabbed his hand, "you best get rid of the Slytherin robes, Septimus," she sighed.

"Oh," the younger Severus said as he unclipped the outer robe from his throat, took the tie and then the jumper off. Hermione stared at the wiry frame of the young man before her. Aware she was ogling her, well, her Professor she stopped looking at his chest and into his eyes: "good idea, Hermione."

"Here," she said, "Headmaster," she nodded. "Professor."

When the youths left the Professor turned to the Headmaster: "You are thoroughly enjoying this, aren't you?"

"Dear boy," the old man said, "just imagine when Harry writes to Remus telling him a boy of your description has suddenly turned up in Gryffindor – surely you can see the humour in that?"

"Well," Severus mouth twisted in a rather satisfied grin, "putting it like that I suppose it is rather amusing," he then schooled his expression back to seriousness: "Did you see the way the younger me was ogling her like she was a piece of meat."

"Oh Severus, surely you cannot begrudge Miss Granger her admirers," the coot popped another violet in his mouth. Severus snatched some and crunched on a few. Lily used to love these, he once bought her a hamper filled with sweets for her birthday. "Did you notice she was flattered, dare I say it," the Headmaster smirked, "I would think those two would be quite the team."

"It is still me – highly inappropriate," he groused, "why did she have to come up with a plan? I could have done so."

"I thought she schemed rather well," Albus said. "I will have to inform Minerva of this rather unique turn of events but Miss Granger is quite sneaky when she wants to be."

I know, Professor Snape thought, were she a half-blood she'd almost certainly be put in Slytherin. "Admittedly, I am somewhat impressed with her cover story but is this a good idea in light of..."

"Yes," the Headmaster snapped. "It will show you what you are as the man I have always known you to be."

"But if I hurt Miss Granger it will be like Lily all over again."

"The Second Chance Enchantment may not work like that, Severus."

* * *

"Well," Hermione said, "are you ready for the Lions Den?"

"I find the analogy to Daniel rather fitting but then he was rescued by an angel, was he not?"

Gods, she thought, I find it hard not to moan in the presence of your older sarcastic self but when you're saying nice things to me... "Y-yes, I believe h-he was," standing outside the Portrait of the Fat Lady Hermione whispered: "Verity of thy troth."

"Enter!" the Fat Lady said then looked at the younger Snape. "You seem familiar?"

"I will fill you in later, dear Lady," Hermione said politely, "but it has been a long night."

"Yeah, it feels like it's been twenty years," young Severus groaned.

Hermione sniggered as they walked through the hole. Standing in the shadows Hermione laughed against his chest: "That was brilliant," she said. "Come on."

Like before, she led him up the stairs and taking a deep breath they took the final step into the Common Room. Both wondering what the reaction was going to be like.

"BLOODY HELL, YOU BROUGHT SNAPE HERE!" shouted Ron.

Severus cringed and hid behind Hermione. The boy Snape could only assume was Potter narrowed his Lily like eyes: "It just looks like him, Ron," he said though his tone was guarded. He was sitting there writing an essay.

"Remarkably like him," said a red haired girl. "Still, we have to be polite," she got up, "Ginny Weasley, who are you?"

"Septimus Snape," the boy replied with ease. Slytherin training. If the sweet Witch by his side was as bad a liar as the older him claimed, then perhaps it was best if he did the talking. "I am a Muggleborn, believe it or not, and I only found myself here this late in the game due to overly religious parents – lately they died in a car crash so I found myself free to finally be able to attend. I was port keyed here," a little embellishment Hermione filed away. "Though not straight to the Headmaster... Dumble..."

"Dumbledore," Hermione finished. "Yes, I came across him and, like you, – mistook him for Professor Snape but there are marked differences."

"Like what?" never had Severus been so annoyed by a red head. "Looks like him to me."

"That's because you're about as perceptive as a blind deer in headlights, Ron!" Hermione snapped. The younger Severus shoulders shook with laughter. "Anyway, it's not like you have to worry about sharing your dorm with him, he's a year above us."

"What about Professor Snape of the same name?" Seamus asked also slightly distrusting the new addition. "Does he know?"

"Yes, we hammered out the details with him – he is well aware his distant relation is in Gryffindor. I can assure you, he'll treat him as such."

"So much for blood being thicker than water," Dean laughed. "Well, whatever, as a fellow Muggleborn," the half-coloured youth stood up and shook Snape's hand: "Welcome to Gryffindor."

"Thank you..."

"Dean Thomas, so do you like Football?"

"Not particularly, I prefer singular activities like swimming – walking – that sort of thing."

"Swimming is cool I must admit," Dean said, "great for the muscles."

Hermione coughed: "Right, well," a Seventh Year Gryffindor boy stood up. "Names Gareth," the boy said winking at Hermione. Harry noticed that the younger Snape dug his hands into Hermione's. Hmm, that was odd. "We'll see if you can bunk up with us, eh? Or would you rather bunk up with Granger here?" the boy was Welsh. "Can't say I blame you if you did."

Another Seventh Year boy stood up. Handsome, blond, chiselled and glaring hatefully at the new boy's hand, that was now tightly intertwined in what he considered HIS girls hand.

"Cormac," he bowed a little stiffly.

Ron snarled and gripped onto his wand. "Oh Ron," Ginny sighed. "You cannot stop other boys from looking at her. She's going to be flirted with on every angle." She had even caught Malfoy giving Hermione the odd appreciative glance now and then. Though she was not going to say that to her brother.

"I would have been lost without her foresight, kind hearted nature, warm smile and lovely manner."

Harry shrugged his shoulders and walked up to him: "Well," he said, "that's Hermione for you but, just a warning, she can be scary sometimes."

"So," Snape shrugged. "She's like another girl I knew from my last school," not a lie. "How can I not be drawn to her?"

"Are you really related to scary as hell, Professor Snape," a boy with a Liverpudlian accent said. Snape turned around. "Neville Longbottom," he said.

Pureblood then. Seems like Pettigrew but the boy did have something of his own thoughts inside his head: "Sadly, yes. He's a right bastard isn't he?"

The whole common room relaxed around that one statement. So, young Severus surmised, this was what it was like being a Gryffindor. Just have to hate me and be popular. That's fine, he thought, I've been hating myself for years already so this should be easy. Hermione felt exhausted. How this was going to work in the long run, she had no idea. His reaction to her calling herself the nickname all Slytherin's used bothered her somewhat. Why was he so angry with her for that? The look in the older version's eyes seemed in warm agreement with his younger self.

Was she about to crack the enigma code of Professor Snape? When Lavender and Parvati got into their dorms both bounced on Hermione's bed: "Wow, he's so hot and a Seventh Year."

"He was being nice," Hermione blushed.

"Well," Lavender gushed, "if he was giving me those come hither gazes he was directing at you the whole time, I would have been in his bed tonight not my own."

"Lavender Brown!"

"I agree," Parvati breathed. "Wow, he is one sexy Wizard isn't he?"

"Could say that," Hermione mumbled picking at her bed covers, "I was busy being jostled left, right and centre after he insulted his relative."

"But those eyes and that voice," Lavender persisted. "He could be Heathcliff to your Cathy."

"Mr Darcy to your Elizabeth Bennet."

"Romeo to my Juliet?" Hermione finished in fits of giggles with her girl friends, "come on guys, I just met him, and you're making out we made out instead of doing what we actually were doing," the two girls arched their eyebrows, "and _that_ was talking to Professor Snape and Headmaster Dumbledore."

"Seriously, how did grumpy pants take it?"

"Um, rather well actually," Hermione said. "He did insult me and Septimus was rather indignant – really, it was like seeing Harry in action."

"THIS IS GOING TO ROCK!" Ginny yelled breezing in. Her enthusiastic bouncing made the other three lift up off the mattress a little. The red head flung herself on the covers. "Ron's no longer the only Gryffindor good at Wizards Chess and he and Harry are discussing... what?" she said looking at Hermione's deepening blush. "OH YOU DON'T?"

"No, I do not!"

"You do, you want to get in Septimus' pants don't you?"

"I think he wants to get in hers too!"

"You're awful you lot," Hermione groaned.

So far her sexual explorations have been with Viktor, who came before she had a chance too. With three muggles in the Summer holiday. One of the Weasley twins, also during the Summer holidays. And a casual flirtation with Kingsley Shacklebolt. Just that, she cringed, with Septimus she'd effectively be sleeping with her Professor. Yet, her head could find nothing wrong with that!

"You know what?" Ginny carried on.

"No, but I guess you're going to tell me."

"I cannot wait to see Malfoy's face when he sees you and Septy tonguing each other!"

Now, Hermione grinned. That is something I feel I _can_ participate in. "Right girls, it's been a trying night for me – I want some, 'hey I may look average in the morning sleep', please."

"Sleeping with Septy may make you feel as beautiful as you are," Ginny said warmly. "He has a damn fine backside!"

"Must be all that swimming and walking he does," winked Parvati.

What the hell have I got myself into, Hermione thumped her head back on her pillow. Tomorrow morning could either go efficiently well or extremely badly. Depending on how the rest of the school are going to react, but she could always rely on Gryffindor pride. He'd already passed an unwritten test – so who knows. He may be a natural Muggleborn and Gryffindor after all.

That night her dreams were strange to say the least. They started out making shy, awkward, but still sinful love with Septimus, and it was wonderful. The way she felt with those firm hands on her waist massaging her skin. The way his lips felt. Those young, deeply earnest eyes, boring into her own as they began their journey to Passion in mutual desire. Then, in a rather horrifying but, still somewhat not unwelcome turn to the dream, she found herself suddenly flung on the back of her bed by an insistent Professor Snape who growled in her dream: "Prepare to finish what you've started, Hermione," he said.

Unfortunately, the Dream Hermione never got a chance to answer as the real one woke up shaking and sweating: "Wow," she shook her head, "playing with fire is not going to be easy!" it was still dark, the other two girls were peacefully sleeping. "Oh well, may as well read," she shrugged. As she picked up an Advanced Ancient Runes Text she saw an old dusty box wedged behind her bed and the wall: "Now," she mused, "I wonder who put that there?" Thinking nothing of it she began on one of her favourite subjects: "Ancient Runes, better start researching now before I lose my mind," and my heart... to a man she could never have. Bringing out her own personal notebook she did not allow anyone to see, she began jotting down notes from the book. Writing references in a different quill style and making sure she had some work to do tomorrow. "After all, surely, it is better for both ends of the time warp we're in if he is gone as quickly as he came," she sighed. "Certainly less hurtful to either of us."

Then she tried going back to sleep.

And people wondered why she was not a morning person!


	3. How To Shock Hogwarts

**AN** : _JK Rowlings world that I have just expanded._

* * *

 **Triggers** : _Bullying. Slight Mob Mentality._

* * *

 _Thank you, **Vino Amore** , for giving this chapter the once over x_

* * *

 **The Second Chance Enchantment**

 **How to shock hogwarts**

Groggily Hermione woke up. Groaning as she realised she had stayed awake far longer into the night than she meant to – no more disturbing dreams, thank goodness. Somewhere, not very far from her, was a young version of Severus Snape. Only she knew his true identity. Had found out many things about the man through the boy. Things she felt she was not meant to know. This would just make her life with Professor Snape even harder. There was no way he was going to overlook this. Even though, technically, it was his own fault he was here. Crawling out from beneath the covers she padded her way to the shared bathroom after she shed her pyjamas. Wrapping a towelling robe around her, Hermione wished she had not been so effusive with her Professor's younger self.

Next to her assigned shower; lay her shampoo, conditioner and body wash. Humming Back In Time, Time After Time, and other songs she could think of related to time as the hot water rushed down her body, Hermione could not quite believe how flirty teen Snape was. Using a loofah she scrubbed every inch of her flesh. Once she tilted her arm up, she noticed she needed to shave under her arms, so she grabbed a razor. Gently, Hermione smoothed the razor over the soap covered planes of her legs. Taming her pubic hairs. Making sure there was not a lick of hair where it should no longer be.

Running her head under water she began massaging the shampoo from root to tip allowing it to lather as she piled the curls around her head, whilst using a more luxurious jasmine scented shower crème to smooth over her body. A present from her mum. She rarely used it, except on days she felt the need to be extra confident and today she did. As the crème worked its way into her skin she allowed the delicate scent to take over her senses. After two minutes she rinsed off the strawberry and vanilla shampoo thoroughly. Using her fingers she combed the conditioner through from root to tip. Also leaving that in for two minutes. Picking up the shower head she ran it over her body – lily of the valley, jasmine, strawberry and vanilla weaved its aromatic spell into Hermione's senses. For the first time Hermione felt sexy. Then she rinsed off the conditioner.

Lavender and Parvati walked in after: "Thought you 'ated mornin," Parvati yawned, "always up 'fore us!"

"Yeah, well, I could not sleep."

"Don't blame you," Lavender winked, "I bet a certain someone occupied your thoughts?"

Blushing Hermione tutted: "Septimus is not interested in that sort of thing," she said. Well, of course he wouldn't be. This was Severus Snape. Severus Snape would throttle her rather than kiss her. Or, so she thought. "He's too intelligent."

"Even smarty pants needs stress relief."

"Lavender," Hermione sighed. "I cannot entertain a relationship right now."

Rolling their eyes, the two friends giggled as they watched Hermione squirm. "All right," Parvati sighed, "please for the love of Godric at least wear some make up today. I promise I won't over do it?"

"I suppose it cannot hurt, and it is not against the school rules."

"If it was Puggy Parkinson would have been expelled years ago," Brown sniggered. "All right," Lavender rolled her eyes at Hermione's disapproving cluck, "you're a junior McGonagall, you know that right?"

"Ha ha," Hermione bit back sarcastically. "All right then, but nothing too outlandish, bright – just," she waved a hand, "a black wing, mascara and lipstick."

"Plum or red?"

"What?"

"I am not going to put a dull colour lipstick on you, Hermione," Parvati sighed, "you have great colouring for red lipstick. Try it, please. It's M.A.C."

"Are you sure I should wear red?"

"Yes."

"Go on then," Hermione grinned. "I plan on doing something a little frivolous in the Great Hall anyway."

Both girls squealed and jumped up and down as they took their friend in their manicured hands. Whilst Parvati worked on Hermione's face, Lavender did her hair in a fishtail braid. Grabbing a box of accessories she picked out forget me not pins and placed them in little spots in the braid. Then she threaded an emerald green ribbon through the weaves of the hair. Parvati was cautious with the foundation, applying a touch of bronzer and tint of blush. Working fast on her eyebrows with a tweezer shaping them in a soft arch. With the curses she had flung at her recently from her jaunt in the Department of Mysteries, Hermione took the pain with equanimity.

"Come on," the girls said when they had finished making her up. "There," Lavender pointed at the mirror.

"Wha..."

"That's you, Hermione, now let the fun begin," Parvati smiled, "we'll meet you down in the Great Hall, oh," she handed Hermione the tube of lipstick. "Take it as a present," she winked.

Hermione hugged Parvati then Lavender and picked up her freshly washed and pressed uniform. Not believing quite how lovely she felt. With an extra spring to her step she walked down to the Common Room and smiled when she saw Septimus (Severus) standing awkwardly in new Gryffindor robes – he seemed more confident in the colours and they suited him well. Much better than as a Slytherin. He heard her light step and looked up. His eye wide in pleasant amazement at how she looked.

"My friends insisted I look like this," she blushed.

Gulping awkwardly Septimus walked as if hypnotised and stopped in front of her raising his hand towards her cheeks to caress them in wonder: "I shall have to thank your friends," he whispered.

"Um, do you have someone to share texts with or..." Septimus lifted up a brand new satchel.

"I woke up and found everything I needed," he shrugged. "How?"

"The Headmaster most likely told McGonagall," Hermione said, "she bought Harry a new broom," Hermione lowered her now curly eyelashes, "so I would not put it past her to buy you everything you'd need either."

"I have always respected McGonagall," Septimus decided to whisper in case someone could be listening. The cool breath that landed on her ear made her weak at the knees. "So, are we waiting for everyone or shall we go down to breakfast?"

"I suppose we can go to Breakfast," Hermione shrugged, "Ron's probably down there already, he can shovel food with amazing alacrity."

"Shall we?" he proffered his arm. Coyly, Hermione threaded her hand through the crook and stood next to him. They walked out of the Portrait and made their way. "So," he sighed, "what do you have today?"

"Potions with Slughorn," Snape groaned. "Yes – I miss you teaching us Potions I have to admit," Hermione sighed, "then Ancient Runes – then," she glanced at his profile, "D.A.D.A," she glanced at his hair. It was not greasy as it would be when he was older. What did happen to you? "I think that's it," she shrugged. "What's on your schedule?"

"Advanced Transfiguration," Snape sighed, "Care of Magical Creatures, is Hagrid really a Professor now?"

"Um, yeah... be careful," she warned. "He's lovely but he forgets that we're not... him."

"Tactfully put," he said admiring her highlighted profile. Whoever did the make-up knew what to do to bring out her natural beauty. "Herbology, a necessary evil," he sighed, "then study period."

"I think I have a Study Period at the same time," she said, "do you think that's deliberate?"

"Knowing the way Dumbledore works probably."

Rocking with laughter Hermione reached up and ruffled his hair: "It's a lovely colour your hair."

"It won't be in a couple of hours time," Septimus said honestly, "I can never get it to stay shiny and clean."

"Hey, you're talking to a girl with hair that could soon become an afro in sub-tropical temperatures."

"Not a problem," Snape said, "I like long hair on a girl. I think it makes them look prettier." Hmm, shall I hear more or shall I speak at this? Hermione wondered. This Severus she could easily love. "Besides at least yours stays smelling nice."

"A wager?" Hermione suggested, they reached a moving stair case and Septimus jumped down and then grabbed her by the hips and helped her hop down to avoid Hermione spraining her ankle. Balancing herself she realised her hands were curled around his shoulders as they looked into each other's eyes: "If I can still smell sandalwood and rained on fresh cut grass in your hair then you have to..."

"Kiss you?" Septimus said.

"Um, no – I was going to suggest losing a game of Wizard's Chess to Ron," Hermione's smirk broadened. "If I can't then..."

"You can kiss me?"

I'd kiss you right now but be patient, I have a plan! "That's hardly a punishment, is it?" she arched a freshly shaped eyebrow. Septimus winked. He _actually_ winked at her. "I will try and break a school rule by the end of the day?"

Ignoring the little angel Hermione telling her this boy was corrupting her, Hermione searched his intent gaze: "Do you make it a habit to break school rules?"

"Only when it is vitally imperative to do so," she replied as they walked down another set of steps. Each time the steps connected Septimus helped her down. Making sure she was safe. It was such an old-fashioned gesture but it made Hermione feel like a million Galleons. "What school rule do you think I should break?"

Tilting his head Septimus smile broadened: "I think you should create trouble in my class," he grinned wickedly. "What does older me hate you to do the most?"

"Interrupt you when you're in mid-flow!"

"Do that then."

"Ugh," Hermione hung her head down, "fine – I led myself into that one, never try and be a Slytherin again."

"I would not want you to be a Slytherin, you're perfect as you are!"

Other's were piling into the halls and walking down the steps now so their conversation had to be kept on a more diplomatic level in case the wrong person should hear. As predicted Ron was already there eating away. The people that were already in the Great Hall eating all stopped and stared at Hermione hand-in-hand with Mr. Tall, Dark and Mysterious. Hermione turned to see Draco with his jaw hung wide open though it was not at the boy next to her but aimed at her. Good job girls, she grinned.

"Who is that?" Septimus inquired about the blond.

"Never mind," Hermione sighed, "let's eat," she took his hand and parked them next to Ron. "Hey, Ron."

"Hey," Ron nodded at them. "Blimey, you're wearing make up!"

"No, really, I thought my lips were bleeding."

Snape chuckled deeply: "What's so funny?" Ron scowled.

"Nothing, up for another game tonight?"

"You bet!" Ron's eyes lit up. "You shoulda seen 'im," Ron said to Hermione, "he was fantastic, he really was – beat my pieces black and blue."

Shuddering Hermione gazed at the plate: "What's wrong?" Septimus asked.

"Hermione hates Wizards Chess," Harry said sitting the other side of Snape.

In a high pitched voice Ron said: "It's totally barbaric!" he mimicked her 12 year old self.

"Shut up you two," she mumbled.

Another similarity to Lily, Severus sighed. Shortly after, the rest of the Sixth and Seventh Year Gryffindor's had arrived, and both years chatted away together. Gareth winked at Hermione making her blush spread further. Cormac scowled at Septimus and was already plotting a way to get her away from the interloping creep.

"I've written to Uncle Remus," Harry mentioned casually.

Hermione glanced through the corner of her eye to register Snape's reaction, aside from a slightly stinging grip on her thigh the boy gave nothing away: "Uncle Remus?" Snape asked.

"Yeah, he was friends with my dad," Harry said.

Was? Snape scowled. Surely the famous Marauders had not disbanded? "He taught D.A.D.A. For a year, that's how we met," Harry picked up some sausages and freshly made ketchup. "Anyway, he is the only link to my parents still alive."

Alive? Snape's stomach twisted in knots. "Harry," Hermione jumped in before he said something that would blow Septimus' cover. "What were you and Septimus talking about, Ginny said it was something..."

"Oh," Harry sighed, "we discussed the problems of not being able to be taught proper Defence Against The Dark Arts," he crunched into the sausage. "We are of one mind on the incompetency of Ministry handled Curriculum when it comes to this more than important subject."

I told you so, rose steadily in Hermione's chest bursting to be brought out. It was only now Harry looked up and saw his friend looking like she was going out on a date and not for a day in school: "You look lovely, Hermione," Harry said.

Snape inched closer to her. This little movement was noticed, again, by Harry. The new boy certainly seemed rather attached to his friend/sibling. "Don't worry," Hermione whispered in Septimus ear.

They managed to stop holding hands long enough to really tuck into breakfast and Hermione was grateful she had the tube with her as she carefully reapplied directly after eating and drinking. Septimus decided to be brave enough to sneak a look at the Teacher's Table: Slughorn, not changed a bit. Himself scowling at the sight of young him in Gryffindor robes and getting on with Hermione. Dumbledore twinkling with mischief. McGonagall, again hardly changed, maybe more greys than the black hair he remembered her having and the tartan green. Something which he found rather hypocritical of her to be wearing. Even if it was clan-ish. Flitwick, jolly old Flitwick. Hagrid was … well … Hagrid, then the others – some he did not recognise.

"Well," Hermione's voice broke through his thought processes. "I guess I had best get going," she swung around the bench but not before Septimus stood up and helped her up causing half the girls in the hall to swoon at the courtly gesture. Some of them narrowed their eyes with jealousy over Hermione being held up by the tall, new, mysterious Gryffindor with raven black hair. Oh, Hermione tried to hide her mirth, if only they all knew. "Thank you," Hermione shrugged prettily.

Then, to the shock of everybody, Hermione grabbed Septimus by the front of his robes. Firmly, Hermione crushed her lips to his. Whilst their lips danced the rumba their tongues began a slow tango. So lost in the feel of him against her, Hermione slipped her arms up and circled his neck. Entangling her fingers around his soft, lovely locks, eventually burying her hands in his hair. Stepping closer, the kiss deepened as he wrapped his hands around her petite waist. Warm, strong, confident and delightfully massaging her through her uniform. Both shuddering with pleasure as the young lovers became entwined in each others arms. Neither seemed to want to stop it. Many Fourth years and up were busily taking notes of the rather romantic kiss they were sharing, not only with each other; but the entire school.

McGonagall sneaked a look at Severus – he was clutching tightly onto a napkin – the pallor of his flesh turned deathly white.

"Who's the boyfriend, Granger?" a sneering voice called across the Hall. Reluctantly, they stopped kissing and turned to look at Puggy Parkinson.

"His name is Septimus Snape!" Hermione declared. Everybody noticed how flushed and beautiful she looked after the kiss. Something glowed within that radiated through her whiskey eyes.

A clatter of cutlery deafened everyone as the name echoed in about a thousand pairs of ears.

"Is that breaking a school rule?" Septimus whispered cheekily. Hermione was still in his arms. "Hermione?"

"No, just not advisable," she murmured back as she pressed her lips against his again allowing another brilliant explosive kiss to overtake her. "Hmm," she murmured. "Certainly can ensnare the senses," she shivered. Slowly, she extricated herself from Septimus firm and comforting hold. "Bye," she sighed.

Harry and Ron swapped worried looks. Ron glared at Septimus a little jealously. Not only his rival in Chess but now, it seemed, with other things as well. Harry hid a smile behind his hand: "Hogwarts to Septimus... Hogwarts to Septimus..." Gareth waved his hand in front of his new friend's face. "What's your secret I've been wanting to do that for months!" Shyly, Snape shrugged as he walked out of the hall with the strawberry blond Welsh Wizard. "What was it like, mate?"

Cormac glowered. They shared a dorm. It would be easy to prize out the dirt on Septimus – then he can swoop in like a Knight to protect his Lady's virtue. Oh, he grinned like a shark, Hermione will be his!

"Like being brought back to life when all around you is hopeless," Septimus replied walking on air. He had kissed the Gryffindor Witch. In front of the entire school. More to the point, he did not care what the consequences were. "I would love to go into further detail but I fear it may be rather uncomfortable."

"She's that good, eh?" Gareth winked slapping Septimus on the back.

Draco followed the two Gryffindor's with his eyes as he swivelled his attention back to look at the reaction of all those in her year. Rather irritatingly not one of them were kicking up a fuss. Not even the red head. Aside from a scowl. Weaslette seemed positively smug as she turned and assaulted her Mudblood boyfriend's mouth the same way.

"Why don't you ever kiss me like that, Draco?" Parkinson stood up. "Even the Mudblood gets more action than I do!"

Rolling his eyes Draco just ignored the bitch as she stormed off in a huff.

No one noticed that Professor Snape had slipped out.

* * *

It was not meant to be that passionate, she groaned, holding her head in her hands. Agitatedly she paced around the door to her first class of the day. Thanking her innate uber punctuality that she was the only one here. Once she felt she had berated herself enough she felt a presence behind her and gulped. Spinning on her heel Hermione turned to look at the older version of the boy she had just thoroughly kissed. Her stomach flipped – though not out of fear more out of... desire? Ugh! She sighed. I cannot cope with this right now.

Arching an eyebrow, with his arms folded in his trademark way. Snape waited for her explanation, in silence, without demanding it.

"Um," she said, "sorry?" The prominent question mark in her tone proved that Hermione was now feeling anything but. It was the best kiss she ever had. "Really sorry?" she wheedled but she still wished she could mean it.

"Sorry?" he hissed bending down. Making sure their eyes were on par. "Do you realise how inappropriate your behaviour was just now, Miss Granger?"

"Yes, Sir," Hermione said trying to be meek but failing miserably. Now she was in the best mood she could ever possibly be. "I did mean a kiss but... well..." she quailed under Professor Snape's accusatory glare. "I did not mean it to go to that extent," she jutted out her chin defiantly. "Perhaps we should discuss this somewhere more private, Sir."

The Professor arched an eyebrow again and sighed. "Fine," he said. "Follow me." Trotting behind him as Professor Snape turned around a corner infamous robes billowing behind him – Hermione managed to skip by his side. They walked a few steps around another corner. Each twist and turn landed them further into the darker recesses of the Dungeons. Hermione's heart thudded in her chest. Though she was still aware of the directions so she could make her way back on her own if she had too. Eventually, they stopped once there were no prying ears. "Better?" he asked. All Hermione could do was nod. "Now," he said placing a hand inches above the right side of her head. If I was 13 this would have terrified me, Hermione thought, now I feel another emotion. Dry throated Hermione tried to gulp down some saliva to coat the walls of her throat. "Explain yourself."

"The younger you just keeps being so nice to me," she said. Impressed by how steady her tone was. "Not one thing he has said about me has been nasty – evil – spiteful," she lowered her eyes and hugged into herself. Merlin she is so small, Professor Snape sighed, this looming over frightening her has got to stop at some point. "He's even managed to talk to Harry about how D.A.D.A is such a badly handled subject," she glared into his eyes. "On the way down to the Great Hall he would make sure I did not hurt myself," she looked deeply in her Professor's eyes. As usual they gave nothing away. "He was the one that deepened it."

"Of course I would an at- a lo- you flung yourself at me wantonly!"

"Do you think it is easy for me, Sir?" she hissed. Finally, Professor Snape sighed, you can truly stand on your own two feet. "On the one hand you bitterly oppose my attempts showing you what I know – on the other hand – he is blushing in my company and makes me feel like a million Gold Galleons."

The Second Chance Enchantment, the Professor sighed, I am literally watching what could have been unfold before my eyes. Taking a deep breath Professor Snape gazed into her whiskey eyes. He was starting to remember this moment. The reason he was odd around her. Why she disconcerted him so much. It was terrifying to think he could begin to have feelings for a student, even if he is technically one.

"Fine, does he know of Black's demise? Of Mr Potter's scar? Pettigrew?"

"It was getting close, Sir, when Harry mentioned Remus as being the only link left to his Parents."

"I suppose he would not count me."

"You do not give him any reason to," Hermione pointed out. This Miss Granger, the Professor respected. "Sir," she said matter-of-factly, "please do not begrudge the younger you some happiness. I gathered last night he – you – did not have an easy life."

"I do not need your pity, Miss Granger?"

"No, you may not," she said. "But you have it all the same," forging staunchly ahead, "along with empathy – sympathy – and respect."

"You have had a different life from mine."

"Really, Sir?" she asked in a query. "I had my own Marauder band experience at my Muggle school. Four girls who thought that making fun of the bushy haired freak was such fun," she rolled her eyes, "and my first two months here was not exactly a bed of roses with bullying from your precious blond Prince and not making a single friend. You know," she narrowed her eyes. "You can thank the Dark Lord next time you meet him – if it wasn't for him I would not have had Harry and Ron as friends now!" she was about to go into Potions but Professor Snape grabbed hold of her elbow and pinned her against the wall. "You're hurting me!" she squirmed but his fingers dug into her flesh.

"You cannot get too close to the Gryffindor Me, you know that?" the Professor hissed. "Do you understand?" he snarled.

"This is what I mean," Hermione said in a calm voice that belied the fear twisting in her gut. "The younger you does not worry about things like that – the younger you is wonderful," she met his gaze. "I do not know what happened between then and now but I like you."

"Don't!" he murmured coldly in warning. "You have no idea what I am capable of."

"Yes because opening doors for ladies, making sure I do not twist my ankle and defending my status in this world – are all evil things are they not, Sir?"

Professor Snape looked like he had just been stung by her as he released his grip on her arms. He had to leave before he did something wrong.

* * *

Once he was alone Professor Snape rushed into his chambers and sat down on the chair behind his desk and groaned. That Granger had suddenly become a young woman – yes, she may still quote verbatim from text books but her feelings were all her own. The fact that she had not allowed Potter and Weasley's opinions affect her own added a notch or two of credibility to her character. The fact still remains: She is a student, I am a Professor.

Not only that. I am a Double Agent (For the Order – it made him laugh at how gullible the Malfoy's were – why should he not be loyal to Albus?) That bloody oath, he growled. Unbreakable Vow! There was no way around it, he sighed, he would have to kill the man who gave him a chance of redemption. All because their precious boy was raised to be such a mummy's boy, he could not do a single thing himself. The slight, small, and physically weaker Hermione Granger managed to best him in both Muggle _and_ Magical methods. There was time before his lesson to start.

Decision made, he strode to his hearth and Floo'd Dumbledore in. "Severus," he smiled, "did you see Miss Granger in the Halls?"

"I did and I took her to task on it – she was surprisingly reasonable about the issue."

"Why does that shock you, Severus?"

"The fact remains she will only get hurt when the young me has to go back. I do not think..."

Holding his hand up, Albus sighed. All humour gone from his eyes. "How are you so certain, Severus?"

"I darken everything that dares to care for me, Albus." Before Albus could speak at this depressing statement Severus gazed at the Headmaster: "I want to tell her the truth," Severus sighed. "She needs to know that I cannot harm her but she must know why she should step away."

"Do you really think she would?"

"What do you mean?"

"What have you really observed about Miss Granger, Severus?" Albus leant against the wall, "genuine remarks now?"

"Incredibly loyal," Snape sighed, "cannot bear to see others fail, that is why she continuously helps Mr Longbottom." Ruefully, the younger Wizard ruffled through his hair. "Displays a vicious streak – which is why Miss Edgecombe sports that rather telling word across her brow." I do not intend to cure the tattle tale either! "The cunning she showed in organising the Army in your name was rather admirable. In truth, with the wrong tutelage, Miss Granger could rival the Dark Lord eventually."

"Anything else?"

A sigh of heavy exasperation escaped Severus mouth as he glittered at the Headmaster: "I do not know what you mean."

"It does not take a genius, Severus, to see that the young creature has a great deal of respect for you," the Headmaster sighed, "she has constantly defended you to Mr's Potter and Weasley."

"I said something horrible to her two years back," the Professor groaned, "yet she still respects me?"

"Miss Granger has a big heart capable of all forms of love for all types of people, there is not an ounce of prejudice in her," Albus looked at him – his expression unreadable, "she told the younger you that a man crying was perfectly natural and comforted you in my office. Neither would let go of each other."

"She deserves better than I," Severus mumbled.

The pathos in Albus sigh was not lost on Severus: "What do I have to say to make you believe you are a brave man, Severus?"

Lowering his eyes Severus felt the need to cry but he did not wish to do so in front of the Headmaster. "I am a coward, Albus, I was a coward that day and I still am."

Tutting, Albus shook his head walked up to Severus and wrapped his arms around the young man's neck. Gently pulled him in a fatherly embrace: "I suggest you look at your memories since Miss Granger came to the school – you might be surprised at how she looks at you when you are teaching."

"I almost kissed her just now, in the halls, Headmaster," Severus admitted, "how good is that?" he sneered in self-loathing. "Enlighten me?"

Massaging his temples Albus groaned: "There proves my point, Severus," the man squeezed Severus bicep, "you do realise that she is of age."

"Duty of care, Headmaster – I cannot and _will not_ betray her trust!"

There, the Headmaster beamed beatifically at the D.A.D.A Professor. "See, you said it yourself. You care for her honour – you would never hurt Miss Granger any more than you would other students," the old man turned to Floo back to his office: "I think Miss Granger – in a few years, would be perfect for you."

"Humph, she is likely to marry Potter or Weasley."

"I think the Second Chance Enchantment has changed that," Albus smiled, the eyes amongst the beard sparkled with admiration, "you were sent to a Gryffindor Muggleborn who has dazzling intelligence and a genuine heart."

"If I get summoned?"

"I am sure Voldemort would not sense any change to your timeline – he is far to preoccupied with Mr Potter at the moment," the mention of the Dark Lord's name caused the raven haired Wizard to wince. "I know how that makes you feel," he sighed, "so, what is it you wish to tell Miss Granger?"

"The cruelty I imposed on Lily."

"You have more than atoned for that – the younger you despised hearing Miss Granger refer to herself as that unsavoury term," Severus glowered at Albus over this, "maybe you could bond her as some sort of Secret Keeper – she has more discretion than you know."

As Albus stepped into the fireplace Severus sank onto the desk dropping his head down so his chin rested on his collarbone: "Good idea," he muttered, "now how do I get her to do it?"

"Be honest, Severus, offer her a cup of tea and make her feel welcome in your presence."

* * *

Two hours had passed and Septimus was by Hermione's side as soon as he possibly could be. They giggled as he bent his head down and she smelled it: "I can still smell sandalwood and freshly cut grass."

"You're just saying that because you don't want to break a school rule."

"Genuinely," she said threading a lock in her fingers and held it up to his nose – he took in a deep breath. "See," her dimpled smile calmed him down. Harry and Ron stood to the side watching them. "So, you owe me."

"Was the deal I kiss you?"

"We've done enough of that this morning," she giggled as the blush crept to her forehead. "I bet the plait looks a mess?" she twirled around.

"No, it still looks sweet."

She found his arms wrap her around her waist and his nose nuzzled in behind her ear: "I will only lose spectacularly for you," he whispered.

A sneer interrupted their hug: "Oh look it's the Mudblood with the next blind idiot!"

She felt his hands clutch tightly onto her robes before he glanced up to look into the ice blue eyes and blond hair. "Malfoy!" Snape hissed, the eyes that were lava a moment ago now became black ice. He let Hermione go. "I dare you to call her that again."

"I don't need to be dared – she is a Mudblood!" Draco smirked.

In the distance Ron, Harry, Seamus and Dean had drawn their wands – Ginny had joined the group when she saw what was happening. Harry glanced at the hatred in the red haired beauty's eyes. The past few weeks Harry had finally realised how wonderful Ginny Weasley was. Now, she had got over him, there would never be a chance with her.

Letting go of Hermione, Septimus stood around her and held her back in a gesture that caused Harry to shake his head. Some what too similar to how Professor Snape defended them against Remus in Werewolf form. "I am a Muggleborn, too," Septimus said lowering his eyes – he was already taller than Draco, "I am a year above you, flobberworm," Hermione stood gingerly beside him and squeezed his forearm.

"Septimus," she whispered, "it's not going to improve the situation by having an impromptu duel in the halls." Septimus turned, finding Hermione gazing at him with fear. "Please, he's not worth it."

"Not worth it?" Septimus snarled whipping around, "he's a Malfoy!"

"Septimus," Hermione said taking his hand, "there is nothing to be gained from causing a ruckus or do you wish me to inform your distant cousin?"

"That's it," Draco leered, "do what the little woman says why don't you!" Crabbe and Goyle were by his side and gurgled out what seemed to be a laugh. "Actually," the blond reached out and snatched Hermione by her robes. "As you're freely giving out kisses why don't you show me what you showed him, eh. Who knows," he tilted his head as he roughly cupped Hermione's jaw and forced her mouth open to bruise her with a kiss – tugging harshly at her hair. "Perhaps I might like the taste of dirt!"

Grinding his teeth together Septimus' ire was sufficiently raised as he picked up his wand, making sure his Hermione was out of the line of fire – he yelled: "Levicorpus!" Draco suddenly found himself high up in the air and Hermione watched in horror as she realised the fall would more than likely kill him.

"Septimus!" she exclaimed. "Stop it, stop it please?"

"He was being disrespectful," Septimus said, "spoiled brats like him only learn the worst way possible," and there the ghost of a sneer. The sneer that Hermione frequently put up with on the older Severus. "NO! Septimus – put him back safely!"

"I say leave him!" yelled Ernie MacMillan. "It's not like he'd come to your aid if it was you, Hermione."

"Yeah!" exclaimed Terry Boot, "let him splat, it's not like mummy and daddy can have more – the world will be rid of one less germ!"

Harry was strangely reminded of that memory. Of no one coming to Professor Snape's aid apart from his mum. The reason that Snape threw him out of his office telling Harry to never come there again. Not that Harry had a problem with that at the time. Now though, he sighed. Watching it happen in reverse, he could almost actually hate his father. It could have caused Professor Snape some serious damage if his father lost one moment of concentration.

"That's enough, Septimus," Harry said quietly. His green eyes glittering with seriousness. "Bring him back and put him on his feet."

"He got Dumbledore's Army into trouble!" whinged Hannah.

"No," Harry sighed, "that was Marietta Edgecombe by not keeping her fat mouth shut. Put Malfoy back, Septimus," Hermione was grateful for Harry's intervention. With a sigh Septimus did so: "Thank you," Harry said.

Inwardly, Septimus wondered if this was another branch of the Potter family, if it were not for those green eyes he would have seriously doubted it. The hair was too much of a give away too. Hmm, how could James Potter's son be so different? "Sorry, Harry," Septimus smiled sheepishly, "I do not let anyone insult those I care about – it's silly," he smiled at Hermione, "but in such a short space of time I have come to care for her completely with my whole heart – or," he shrugged, "what's left of it."

Girls swooned again. Ginny walked up to Septimus and took his hand in hers: "She's the best and you did what we've all been thinking to do for quite some time. If anyone has any reason to hate the Malfoys," she sighed, "I do."

What did the Malfoys do to her? Septimus tilted his head to the side and turned his attention back to Hermione: "I'm sorry, Hermione, I wanted to make – I wanted you to feel -" without a verbal answer Hermione tiptoed up and softly kissed his cheek. "Yeah," he sighed. "That."

Not only were rumours rife with Septimus Snape and Hermione Granger's sudden and rather hot romance, the school was abuzz over the revelation that the reason he had the same name as the Professor was because they were related – but he called himself a Muggleborn.

Study Hall was a rippling sussuration of theories being hissed by various groups. Who was Septimus Snape? Why was he not seen before? Was it true that he and Hermione were already engaged? What does Professor Snape think of the idea of his least favourite pupil dating his blood connection? Every time they walked in a room together the humming stopped.

"You mentioned the Lions Den last night," Septimus sighed in Hermione's ear, "I think with all the hissing we've just entered the vipers nest."

"Yep," she said bouncing confidently to an empty table. "We may as well give the little dark things food."

Septimus sat opposite her – both starting a game of footsie beneath the table: "So, does my hair still look alright?"

"Yep," Hermione smirked, "you're going to lose that match, Septimus."

"I guess," Septimus shrugged, "I just hate failing."

Burying her head in her book Hermione muttered something unintelligible. They had finished learning for the day and had to start on their monumental essays. Normally both would find no difficulty in losing themselves in books but, now – they kept studying each other instead of the text in front of them. How, Hermione wondered, how had this developed so quickly? Gryffindor Snape knew her so well. All the Gryffindor Snape could care about this moment in time was gazing at the beautiful Witch in front of him. Hermione felt that familiar tension in her gut when Professor Snape was behind her. Stiffly, she turned around and saw him loom above her – though not with arms folded this time. Still glowering though as he saw her eyes widen to saucers.

"I request you to be in my Office at 7pm, Miss Granger." He sneered at the Gryffindor Snape and leered at Hermione. "Might I suggest you both read the books rather than each other?"

With that they watched him sweep out. "Prat!" Septimus muttered. Hermione giggled. "I do not understand why you like him!"

I wish I could understand it myself, Hermione sighed, nibbling on the end of her quill. "Come on, we best get on with it," she huffed.

"Yes Miss!"

* * *

The last ten minutes before Hermione had to go to Professor Snape's office was the most excruciating she had to endure. For this time it was not a detention, it was not a discussion on one of her essays which, she wondered if he was just using as an excuse to just talk to her. This was different. The look in his eyes. The throwaway insult. Hermione chewed on her nails.

"You had best go," Septimus said. "If he is anything like the rumours I heard then earlier would be better."

Nodding, Hermione gazed at the others. All offering her encouraging glances before she took a deep breath and took her bag with her in case this was one of those discussions on her essays. Maybe she could ask him why he made her go through her reasoning in words when she felt she had expressed herself clearly in text.

Before she left the portrait Septimus ran behind and kissed her on the cheek before transfiguring a small rock into a red rose and pinned it in her hair: "Thank you," she blushed. Gulping at the way his hand hovered over her hair and then ghosted down to her face. "Septimus," she sighed. "Better get..." Septimus never gave her the chance to finish her sentence as he clashed his lips to hers in a searing but non-invasive kiss leaving her head reeling.

Harry watched: "You should stop doing that, you know," he grinned at him, "people might think you're in love."

Septimus shrugged: "So, what if I am," he said, "I know I hardly know her but she is just..." he looked at the hole, "Harry, am I worthy for a girl like her?"

"You seem to do anything in your power to help her but," he sighed, "just don't get your hopes up, Hermione has many admirers – including a World Cup Quidditch Star."

"Did it last?"

"The fact that she is openly kissing you – nah," Harry said walking up to Septimus, "also, Hermione is not one to lead you on. Her heart is too pure for games."

"Thank you, Harry," shyly, Septimus smiled. "I messed up once with a very similar lady, I do not want to do so again."

"Then you must have truly loved the other girl," Harry said, "one tip about Hermione," Septimus widened his eyes in anticipation, "she is the warmest most forgiving woman you could ever wish to know – the amount of times we've messed her around but she is always there caring for us. I honestly think it would take a great deal to make her hate you."

"I called the other lady something nasty – I tried to apologise but..."

Harry wrapped an arm around Septimus shoulder and hugged the new boy. Somehow he wanted this one to be a friend, felt it was important he trust him. Septimus smiled through his fear: "Come on, I got some chocolate frogs."

Beaming, Septimus followed Harry back up the stairs into the warmth of the Common Room and he sat down eating sweets and playing all sorts of games with his new friends. The girl Lavender Brown kept winking at Parvati as if she knew something he did not. Every time he peered through his eyelashes at them they both melted in a pool of giggles. Distractions were good but he kept checking the clock wondering when his dearest Hermione was going to come back. Hating the way the clock thudded out each tick in his ears he got up with a fierce determined look in his black eyes: "I'm going to find out if she is okay."

"Get into trouble with the Bat of the Dungeons?" Ron asked.

"What if she's hurt or that blond prat hurt her?"

"Malfoy knows better to hurt Hermione," Harry laughed. "She slapped him in the face hard enough to cause him to bleed and her knuckles were not bruised in the process."

This brought an eerily familiar leer to Septimus face. Harry wondered if he needed to clean his glasses. Surely not? Shaking his head of that idea he sighed. "Who is coming with me?" he was not to be deterred.

"You don't need to," Neville's quietly shy voice said as his hand tugged at Septimus sleeve, "honest, you don't!"

"Why?" he snarled.

"Because Hermione would not let herself get hurt – she's scary enough not to cause problems, even Filch does not dare to cross her!"

Interesting – Filch was the scourge in his day too. The cat was different. That one was called Catherine De Burgh – or Lady, for short. "Fine," he sighed, "I just feel so hopeless, she's in the clutches of a Slytherin."

"A teacher," Dean said. "I don't think Snape would do anything to jeopardise his dream job."

I would not put it past me, Septimus sighed. How come he found it so easy to slip into this role? Surely this should be hard as heck to pretend to be someone else. Or was he? Was the other one pretending to be someone else? He was so confused. Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock. It was said there were 13 chimes on a dead man's clock. Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock. Come on, Hermione – Septimus worry was gnawing so it twisted his gut – he hated not knowing. Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock. That was the twelfth.

"Septimus," Ginny said softly taking his hand in hers, "Hermione has been longer than this unscathed."

He just hoped the older part of him was not as much like his father as he first supposed. "Are you in love, Ginny?" he asked her. Liking how the blush made her suddenly coy. Instead of looking at Dean as he thought she would her eyes travelled towards Harry: "Ah, and he has not noticed you?"

"I doubt he ever will," she sighed, "so I am dating boys that actually ask me!"

"How about I feel it out for you?"

"Would you do that?" Ginny's eyes widened. "Dean's lovely but I just..."

"Don't have that magnetic pull towards him?"

Shaking her head Ginny smiled shyly: "Do you with Hermione?"

"Yes."

"Hermione has been like a sister to me," she sighed, "I wished for Ron to open his eyes by now and see what we all do but no," Septimus smirked, "you have good eyesight though!"

"Thank you, Ginny."

The red haired girl had assuaged his worries somewhat. The magnetic pull was what he was relying on for bringing her to him tonight in one piece. Instead of playing more games, Septimus settled into a routine with a book, quick quotes quill, and some scrolls to hone his note taking skills as he carefully read and jotted things down. Now that was his sort of panacea for panic.

"He's a male Hermione," muttered Ron. "I don't like it, Harry, the story doesn't seem right."

"It doesn't," Harry agreed, "but do you think Hermione would be able to lie this long?"

"No," Ron said, "so please can we find out what is really going on?"

"Not this time, Ron," Harry said, "Hermione would hate you if you tried to discredit him because of something petty. You really do not want to be on the wrong side of her, do you?"

With a sigh Ron glowered at Septimus as he did at Viktor and any other male who showed a passing appreciative glance in Hermione's direction, Ginny had overheard their conversation and spotted the thunderously murderous look in his eyes: "Ron, if you go near those two I will personally hex you into the next millennium!" she warned her brother.

"That's a threat I would not want to test," Seamus laughed, Septimus heard the exchange and smiled gratefully at Ginny. "Hermione and Ginny are forces to be reckoned with after all."

"That they are!" Dean's goofy smile conveyed how proud he was to have Ginny as a girlfriend. "I think they're both wonderful but Ginny," he grabbed around her waist and pulled her into his lap and nibbled on her

ear, "is the best of them all!"

Blushing Ginny snuggled into Dean's lap. It was only Septimus who noticed sly, covert glances directed an oblivious Harry's way.

Still the clock ticked on...

* * *

 **AN** : _Oooo so she is having tea with Snape, I wonder what sort of sympathy will be offered - or is Septimus right in his gut - is she going to be in trouble? What do you think? Trouble, for Hermione, or is she just eating scones and sipping Assam?_


	4. Verging Hearts

**The Second Chance Enchantment**

* * *

 **AN** : It was brought my attention that describing Dean Thomas in teen Severus POV, as half-coloured was offensive. It was not my intention to upset anyone with this statement. I was trying to convey historical accuracy, considering Severus background, what was considered acceptable at the time in 70's UK. I do not think Severus father was racially tolerant given how he treated his magical Wife and Son. I was trying to show how times have changed from 1978 to 1996. Something that Hermione will help Severus in as the story progresses. Severus will be realising and changing a lot throughout this story as he continues to be with Hermione. He was placed in Gryffindor for a reason, he will see that they are – despite the Marauders – a tolerant group who likes to be friendly and he just wound up with a bad batch.

* * *

 **Please note** : This story will be dealing with all forms of racism, from both the Wizard world with Mudblood as their derogatory term, and the Muggle world and some of their attitudes to people from other cultures. I want to tackle what I know is a sensitive, but all too real, issue of racism in a realistic manner. I DO NOT HOLD RACIST VIEWS AT ALL!

* * *

 **Trigger warning** : This chapter contains attempted and historic Implied!rape.

* * *

 **FANCAST**

 **Daphne Greengrass** : Georgie Henley

 **Theodore Nott** : Thomas Sangster

 **Septimus Snape** : Teenage Alan

* * *

 **Verging Hearts**

As Septimus continued his vigil in the common room, Neville Longbottom had to work on his Herbology assignment. So, with his satchel, parchments, quills and books he made his way down to the Library where he found it was filled with O.W.L or N.E.W.T studying students. Sighing as he realised a group of Slytherins were sat in the corner he normally preoccupied, Neville lost hope of finding a friendly face to sit with. Eventually, he found a rather empty looking spot on a table that had a mixed group of ages and houses. At least here he may get some peace.

Setting his bag down, Neville sat down and brought out the parchment and quills, with his ink pots and books. He really had to focus, Herbology was about the only subject he cared about, so he had best make this good. Each time he watched Professor Sprout, Professor McGonagall and Professor Hagrid his desire increased to also become a Professor. It was no contest as to whom it would be fun to be Apprenticed with; Pomona Sprout had taken a liking to him the moment he stepped foot in her class.

It seemed his mother was also somewhat green fingered as well, every time he dug his fingers into a pot of compost and set a seed into the earth, Neville felt closer to his mother. Every new growth resembled the increase in heartbreak and yet the love he held for the woman who gave up her sanity for him to live bloomed exponentially within his heart. He had just set his table right and was about to search for references and drawings he could magically trace when he bumped into a girl. She was a quiet Slytherin in his year. Rather beautiful too, if Neville had any say but he did not.

"Sorry," he mumbled as he tried to side-step her. Clumsily, he bumped into her, causing her to fall on her rump – her books to clatter on the floor – ink pots had smashed on the floor and splattered all over the place. He braced himself waiting for the insult. It never came. He opened his eyes and saw the girl staring up at him from the floor with a blush on her face. "Erm, need a hand?" he offered, poking his arm out.

"Sure," Daphne whispered shyly as Neville suavely helped her up. Auburn locks curled and waved down her shoulders, framing her rather beautiful face. Languid locks tumbled down over her rather generous chest. Wide blue eyes with green flecks rimmed around the dark, almost turquoise, iris softened at Neville's embarrassed state. "I have been trying to get your attention anyway. I am having trouble with my Herbology assignment. Professor Sprout said I should ask you but well..." she fingered her green and silver tie and sighed. "I was not... I mean..."

"Hey," Neville whispered gently taking her hand in his, so she was no longer drawing attention to her tie. "It is fine, come on. I am stationed here."

Just as they sat down a group of Slytherin men showed up. One of them, a burly seventh year, sat beside Daphne – draping an arm around her shoulder casually slumping in the chair: "Hi baby," he said. "You and me, later yeah?"

Daphne rolled her eyes and shrugged the offending limb from her shoulder: "Get lost Bulstrode!"

"Oh, come on," he leered down her neck disappointed she was buttoned up. "You and I can make our own magic you know."

His mates pushed Neville out of the way as they surrounded the girl. She shrank in her seat realizing how like sharks they resembled. She tried to push the leader away, but another wrapped his arm around her waist: "Oh come on, Daphne, play with us, yeah."

She would have been pawed all over if there was not an indignant HEY from somewhere. Prompting Pince to arrive tutting at the group sternly. This was Neville's plan.

"Madam Pince," he said. "These boys were harassing my study partner."

The largest one of the gang stood tall and straight as he loped towards Neville, aping what he had witnessed Fenrir Greyback do the previous summer, with a leer Bulstrode picked up the Gryffindor's tie and sneered.

"No snake would sit five miles from you, Longbottom!" he leaned over and then gloated: "Seen your Granger – grown inter quite hot stuff. P'raps we'll take our fun out of her instead."

"You go near her and I'll show you how I put adult Death Eaters in prison," Neville said.

The seventh-year gang left the tables sneering to a man. When they had left Neville breathed a huge sigh of relief. Slowly, he turned around and saw that Daphne was watching him with wide-eyed disbelief. Never had she felt so safe, protected and respected than she did now.

"You're a fine young man," Madam Pince said. "Thank you for alerting me to the issue rather than trying to deal with it yourself."

"No problem, Madam Pince," he murmured.

When the Librarian left, Neville sat down and offered Daphne a shy smile. She returned it with one just as demure.

"So," Neville squared his shoulders as he brought a book between them he had chosen for research. "What exactly are you having trouble with?"

Daphne stuttered, confused as to how Neville immediately turned back to studying after just rescuing her from thugs, rather than quivering with fear. Whatever Potter had taught him when Umbridge was here had changed him and she liked it! Once she was over the initial shock she then explained that she did not get the whole point of deseeding by hand when they drop naturally.

"Also," she whispered, "why do we grow them when they have no decent qualities and no properties to use in other things like Potions or wands?"

Neville smiled as he patiently and quietly explained how necessary and vital it was that this plant be cared for in this specific manner. Backing up his claims with texts – showing her how to construct the argument that Professor Sprout required.

"All right," he said. "Here is a list of other books to check out and use. Now I have shown you how to work out the argument I hope that helps you to get an O."

"How do you know so much about this?" Daphne asked with nothing but awe for the Gryffindor her dorm mates often joked about. "You are wonderful, thank you!"

He blushed a deep beetroot red at this compliment. "When I was a child I was often seen in the garden, one of my uncles enjoyed it and he was my favourite one. Being amongst the plants and flowers reminds me of him. Apparently, he and my mother, when children, used to garden for a hobby. So, I guess I'm more my mum than my dad who was brave and heroic and everything I'm not."

"So, he's..." Daphne really wanted to tell him that she thought he was perfect and they should marry and make babies, but she could not. She was scared he'd reject her. "I'd heard about what happened to your mum and dad, no one deserves that. I hate Bellatrix Lestrange with a passion, she gives all us Slytherin females a bad name. I can assure you we are not all like her, you know."

"The day my Letter came," Neville said sadly. "He died with a smile though, his last words were: _Do the Longbottom's proud won't yer son_! I haven't though," he shrugged his shoulders. "I know you are not like her, Miss Greengrass."

"Oh, I don't know," she lowered her lashes. "You put adult wizards in jail. I heard you flew to London on a Thestral – that's brave in itself, I think anyway. No, I'm not. I heard she is in love with You-Know-Who. In a romantic sense. They actually..." she shuddered with disgust.

Neville brightened – did a Slytherin really just compliment him on an overtly Gryffindorian attribute?

"Yeah, she's one weird bitch all right," Neville smiled.

"The strange bitch," Daphne said. They laughed softly at her name calling. "Anyway, so um..."

"Well, I guess I will see you," he said.

Daphne's smile brightened up that alcove and Neville's heart: "With tips like these you may never get rid of me," she said full of Slytherin confidence as she airily flicked her hair over her shoulder.

If Neville was more like his father in that moment he'd have leaned on the wall and said: _Is that a promise?_ However, he was more like his mother, so he blushed instead.

"Yeah, um, better go before curfew."

Daphne nodded almost reaching out to take hold of his hand. She was probably the shyest girl in Slytherin and let her arm fall uselessly off by her side.

"Yes, we must – er get going."

Neville stepped aside the same moment she was about to go around him. So, she stepped the other side, again their steps coordinated again. This went on a few times before Madam Pince called for all books to be put back in their appropriate places. Neville gave her a few books that were the opposite way of where he was headed so as to stop the dodge and apologise dance. He did not see Daphne turn around and look at his back and sigh: " _Thank you, Neville, would you like to go to Hogsmeade with me sometime because I have only liked you since the first bloody day of school!_ Well done, Daphne, smart move – now he just thinks I'm some dumb idiot or worse," she hugged her books to her chest as she dodged between tables. "A Death Eater in the making," she glumly thought aloud once out of the Library.

Slowly, Daphne made her way back to her common room. She was about five feet from her common room when she'd accidentally bumped into Hermione Granger. She had planned her 'run-in' with Neville but not knocking into the class Clever Clogs. Daphne noticed that the Prefect was looking rather... flushed, bright-eyed and happy. She peered round and knew immediately that the Gryffindor had returned from a meeting with their taciturn head of house.

"Oh sorry, Miss Greengrass," she said dreamily.

That was not Granger like at all. No one left Professor Snape's office looking like Christmas had been made permanent. Yet Miss Granger did not look like she had come back from a good berating either. Unless, she shifted on her feet, uncomfortably aware that there was a _frisson_ surrounding Miss Granger. Daphne tried to shudder with disgust at the thought of her Head of House in any sort of non-professional stance with students, but with Granger it did not seem so – wrong. Not since she witnessed the kiss with a young boy who looked almost like him, along with everyone else in the Great Hall.

"Are you all right, Granger?"

"I am well, Miss Greengrass, _more than_ well in fact," she sighed as she moved her hair aside. Daphne saw the blooming of a love bite on the other witch's neck. Her Head of House had... "I am off to bed now – I have to set Septimus' mind at rest." Then, as if the sight of a book had snapped her back to reality, Hermione was all purpose again as she tilted her head to look at the title. "Herbology?" she smirked. "Did you have problems with this week's Herbology assignment?"

Immediately, Daphne stiffened: "We can't all be clever clogs like you, Granger!" she sneered.

"No, please," Hermione hurried after, her eyes wide as she realised she had offended the first Slytherin to show her an ounce of respect other than Septimus/Severus. Daphne was halted from storming past the brunette by Hermione grabbing hold of the strap of her bag. The Slytheriness turned around and felt a little guilty at making Hermione look at her like a kicked puppy, "I did not mean any insult. I was just going to suggest that you go to our resident Herbologist in the making, Neville Longbottom was born with the green fingered touch, as my gran used to say."

Daphne sighed: "Sorry, Granger, that was uncalled for. So, you have problems with plants too?"

"I kill cacti!" she said.

Daphne giggled. "Actually, I spent the entire evening in the Library with Ne – er Longbottom," she said. "We had fun."

"Good," Hermione said, she wondered what she could say when someone interrupted them.

"Look lively lads, two for the price of one!"

"What's that supposed to mean?" Hermione said already fingering her wand. The DA coin nearby in case she needed backup.

Two lads trapped Hermione on one side whilst two others dragged Daphne the other. The Gryffindor closed her eyes and thought of her message. In TROUBLE!

The young men laughed: "When you're done with the Mudblood – we'll swap. We'll need cleaning after all!"

They ignored the girl's indignant squeaks of protests: "Nothing like getting down and dirty after a shower," one Daphne's side replied.

The foursome chuckled. Hermione was going to scream for help had not a familiar voice said to leave them be. Daphne closed her eyes and sighed with relief. It was Neville!

"Oh look, it's _Longbottom_!" sneered a man currently shoving his hand up Hermione's shirt. "Shall we invite him to join in? Or show him what being a man is all about!"

"He knows what being a man is all about!" Daphne yelled.

One of the attackers hit her face hard with the back of his hand. This made Neville angrily grip his new wand, clutching it so tightly in his fist that his knuckles turned white as his face became red.

"EXPELLIARMUS!" he yelled grabbing the boys wands, so they could do no magical damage to the witches.

Thankfully, his yell brought attention from other returning Slytherins. They rushed to see what was happening. Pansy Parkinson's eyes bulged at the sight of Neville Longbottom standing fierce, holding four wands in one hand and his own aimed at the two attacking Daphne. Blaise saw Hermione struggling the other side. She seemed to be sobbing in distress.

Then everyone held their breath as one of the boys had managed to rip Hermione's outer robes from her. Wrenching her cardigan buttons. As well as her shirt. She stood there practically naked in front of the entire crowd. She was so happy. Euphoric when she left Sn... no, Severus' – rooms. Now she was in front of the entire house who hated her because she existed and now her body was on display. She tried to run towards Neville, but his friend excitedly grabbed her skirt and managed to tear the zip out of its stitches in the struggle. That was when Theodore Nott realised things had gone too far and stepped forward.

"I think you're taking things too far, Saunders!" he exclaimed.

"Oh, don't be so high and mighty, Nott," Saunders snarled back. "She's in our territory. Why don't you all be good boys and girls and leave us alone."

Neville was the lone Gryffindor – or he thought he was. Septimus, accompanied by Harry, Ron, Ginny and Luna, the only Ravenclaw, had elbowed their way through the crowd of Slytherins. Wands raised as they took in the horrific scene before them. Harry was livid when he saw two witches being mauled at but incandescently furious when he noticed Hermione in little but her underwear due to her fighting and the strength of the brutes holding her tearing the clothes off her in their struggle. Harry's anger was no candle to Ron's and Ron's dimmed in the light Septimus ferocity.

"You had better step aside from her now," his lip curled in an eerily familiar gesture, stopping the boys in their laughter. "My relative is not one you wish to provoke, Masters."

"Like we would listen to a Mudblood like you, Snape!" the one called Saunders – who seemed to be the leader of the gang – sneered. "Especially one wearing the Lion!"

Ginny had rolled her eyes. Men and their testosterone battles. Silently, she waved her wand, aimed it at the four offending boys, hitting stinging hexes on their gonads causing the young men to wince and collapse on the floor. Once the witches were free, Neville ran to Daphne making sure she was not hurt, it turned out she was hurt in the scuffle. Hermione collapsed in on herself, trying to gather the remnants of her clothes. Septimus, Harry and Ginny heard her mutter: _Not again, not again, not again, not again_. Over and over as if she was reliving a memory rather than thinking of what had just happened.

"Hermione," Luna walked up to the distraught witch. "Come on, Hermione, let's cover you up and get you out of here."

Theo ran to Luna's side and helped the blonde beauty cover her friend up and to her feet. Septimus almost elbowed the young oink from touching his girl. Wow? Where did that come from? What about Lily? He realised he had not thought about Lily for most of the day as his mind was more preoccupied by the wonderful Hermione. A witch as good, as beautiful, as kind and, perhaps he could admit this to himself, more forgiving than Lily if some of the stories he'd heard were true. This was why her reaction puzzled him. What could she mean by: _Not again?_

Why did she not fight? She was bright, vivacious, powerful, he knew she would not find it difficult to fend two big wizards off her _and_ the Greengrass girl. He knew she would do so because her nature was to be helpful, compassionate, and adorable. Even when he witnessed her bossing her friends around she was cute.

Just as he was going to step forward: before the girls managed to get to the first corner of the hospital wing two differing mews sounded. From the corner Filch stepped around and noticed how many students were out past curfew – as the majority were Slytherins he rolled his eyes. He set Mrs Norris on the floor just as a raggedy Ginger cat sauntered from the other direction. Both cats glanced at each other and, imperceptible to human knowledge, they nodded, and both ran to Severus Snape's office. Moments later Snape had appeared through the layers of night holding a lantern.

"I expected this behaviour from Potter and his crew," he looked at his younger self. "Well, well, it did not take you long to corrupt yourself with questionable companions, did it."

"HOW COULD YOU!" Septimus yelled. "You're deliberately ignoring the issue that is as big as your nose just to make fun of some Gryffindors... who is supposed to be the bigger person here?"

"I shall overlook your outburst Mr Snape," the Professor hissed. "However, I shall not overlook rule-breaking with incitement to brawling."

"BRAWLING!" Septimus screamed. "WE came upon a scene where two witches were being sexually harassed by burly boys who had them pinned to the wall. One was stripped naked in front of a large crowd of people and you have the _sheer_ nerve, the _shocking_ tenacity, to make it all Harry's fault for... what? I don't know what you hate about him, but he has been nothing but accommodating and pleasurable to be around!"

"It is true, there is a brain-addling potion intoxicating the air in the Gryffindor common room then?"

"HERMIONE WAS ONE OF THE WITCHES!" Harry finally bellowed backing his new friend up. "She came down here for tea and chat – or was this all some setup?"

"I am not sure what it is you are inferring, Mr Potter?"

"The ultimate humiliation, a _worst memory_ , one could say!" Potter hissed darkly.

That made Septimus stumble as he helped Hermione gather her things. Potter had seen that incident?

"If you think I am that petty..." the Professor stopped to take a deep breath. "Who was the other witch?"

"Daphne Greengrass, sir," Pansy said. "Surprisingly Longbottom was on the scene and had managed to stall them long enough."

Now Professor Snape reacted. Daphne's parents were neutral – this was a regular scare tactic. Silvanos Greengrass was a clever Slytherin but not a racist. He was one of the few that he would not have minded losing Lily too. Daphne was sniffling in the arms of Longbottom who hushed and stroked her hair tenderly. He glanced at Parkinson – just as he suspected – Pansy was now desiring what someone else wanted. Since Draco had lost interest she was on the lookout for another big boy to hang around and it could be Longbottom. Snape almost felt sorry for the boy, then again, he never had two fairly bright, beautiful witches fight over him. The petty jealousy returned. He had misappropriated the roles. He'd often thought of Neville as Pettigrew, but it was clear he was more Lupin than Pettigrew.

"Take the girls to the Hospital wing: Mr Nott and Miss Parkinson shall take Miss Greengrass," as Neville was about to relinquish his grip Daphne curled her fingers in his robes clutching tight, refusing to budge. "Fine, Mr Nott and Mr _Longbottom_ shall escort Miss Greengrass to the Hospital Wing," he rolled his eyes. "Mr Zabini and Miss Parkinson shall assist Miss Granger." He surveyed the four boys on the ground now stiff with the agony of the remnants of the stinging jinx that would have held their erections in semi-permanent state. "Why am I not surprised that this was the brain child of Saunders, Sanderson, Marks, and Bulstrode?"

"Sir," Lovegood's quiet voice broke through his intensity, "Hermione could not fight back sir," he ignored her like most teachers did. "She was practically naked, she still had her wand, but she refused to fight back."

"Come on, Luna," Ginny said trying to urge her friend away from what would undoubtedly be Professor Snape's wrath. "We should go back to bed now that this is done."

"Yes, but I am trying to tell Professor Snape that Hermione's been raped before," Luna said bluntly to the shock of the crowd and to Professor Snape.

Anyone who was moving had stopped. Everyone except him who took a fierce stride with each word said: "What. Do. You. Mean. Raped. Before?" he snarled as he loomed on the unperturbed Ravenclaw.

"I don't know the details, but she was definitely raped before," carrying on in her own carefree way looking at Professor Snape in the eye. Ginny tried to move Luna away. This was not something Hermione would want to spread throughout the school. Not that she now had a choice in the matter. Luna may be whispering but her voice carried, and everyone could hear. "Fourteen...?" Luna tilted her head as if thinking this through properly. "Yes, definitely when she was fourteen."

"Fourteen," Snape gasped. Who did she know at fourteen that could have...? "If it was that black beast I'll kill what's left of him."

"It was not Sirius Black, sir," Luna carried on in her clear whisper. "I'm sure he would not have committed that atrocity against a friend. It was someone else, but no one knows who."

"No one knew she was raped, Luna," Ginny said warmly still trying to manoeuvre the airy blonde away before it could get worse to protect both Hermione's privacy and Luna's future at the school. "No one seemingly, except you."

"Of course, she was, there were Hargedongscruffs all over her when she came back from school her fourth year," Luna murmured.

"Harge..." Professor started but felt his brain would short circuit if he carried on.

"Vicious red miniature Pargedongruffs. Which are purple with wild hair. The former are females and they have sharp teeth and bite – the Hargedongscruffs only swarm to a witch that has had violent attacks thrust upon them. It happened probably at the Quidditch World Cup."

In the haze of Luna's ramblings Severus tried to remember who was there that year: Lucius – no, he preferred them willing. Senior Nott; no, he was too old. Crabbe and Goyle had only managed to produce sons more by ignorance than design. Silvanos Greengrass was happily in love with Stefanie his beautiful wife and was against violence. Macna... Jackpot. Walden Macnair!

"You are certain of this, Miss Lovegood?" he asked.

"Of course," Luna picked at her blue fluffy pyjama top, "it was more than one."

More than one? "How...?"

"She is swamped – it means it has happened more than once."

Severus groaned. He had to use _that_ year to say the second most unforgivable line he'd ever mentioned to a Gryffindor – ever: "How... how does she...?"

"Nargles started entering her aura. They fight off the Hargedongscruffs – their bite stabilises them – therefore rebalancing the witch."

Of course, he smiled a little, _Nargles_. "Well, I am sure you can help now."

"I will Professor, thank you. Oh, you have Nargles too. Should be wary of them, sir."

"What are they again?"

"Love bugs," Luna shrugged. "I noticed them on Neville and Daphne earlier."

Ginny was now fighting the urge to smirk and laugh. She wanted to also get to the common room and discuss how to do damage control with Harry, Ron and Septimus. Hermione would need to know that the rumour mill was not overfed with sensationalist tripe. Ginny also wanted to be there to show Hermione support. What other demons was her friend concealing from them?

"Come on, Luna, you have to get moving and go to bed."

"I noticed Harry is not swarmed by Nargles this year. You are, as is Dean Thomas..."

It went on down the hall as Luna told all who could listen who in the school had what imaginary creature surrounding them dictating what their emotional state was. Professor Snape had to give Miss Weasley credit; not everyone could put up with an eccentric like Luna for a friend, but she did. For that, Severus almost liked and admired Miss Weasley.

It was further up the stairs that Ginny heard something from Luna's mouth she did not think she would.

"Harry is swarmed by Rangles, though. They are with people that have unrequited love or is in love with someone who is totally unaware of their feelings."

"Hmm, Luna, I suppose so."

"I wonder if it's you, you had Rangles all over you before you dated Michael Corner when the Nargles took over."

Ginny rolled her eyes and hugged Luna once they reached the Ravenclaw corner. "Go to sleep, Luna, you can comment on creatures and their purpose for us Wizards and Witches tomorrow."

"Okay, goodnight, Ginny – I think of you as my sister you know."

Ginny's heart felt a little full. She loved Luna too: "I know, and you're mine in all but blood."

Ginny was about to make her way back to Gryffindor when Ron showed up.

"I don't want to find you attacked," his throat felt sore as if he'd been somewhere and screamed violently. "Come on – let's hope Hermione'll be okay."

"I hope they are _both_ okay," Ginny said. "Greengrass was hurt too."

"Probably part of a more sinister plan."

"NO witch would make up a plan where she gets sexually assaulted, Ronald," Ginny said stiffly. She tried to cover over the slight bitch of jealousy from seeing Neville hold Daphne in his warm arms. She remembered how he awkwardly tried to kiss her in his fourth year under the mistletoe and damn her for wanting _that_ to actually happen this year. "The witch would have made the plan, so she was not even _seen_ at the point of the attack."

Ronald grumbled. Irked that not everyone seemed to be sensible and hating all Slytherins on principle.

"Ron," she started a little cautiously. "D-did you know Hermione had been..."

"Raped. No idea," Ron said sadly. "She did not tell any of us about it."

"I would have thought she'd have told me," Ginny whispered. "I would have respected her and kept it quiet."

"Hermione can be quite secretive – she tells us a bare minimum. As if she is trying to re-invent herself in this world or something," Ron said.

"Or perhaps," Septimus' voice interrupted them. "Hermione did not wish to keep reliving awful, harrowing memories time and time again. There is nothing worse than having to rehash the same trauma's."

"I understand that, Septimus," Ginny said quietly. She felt raped by Tom in her first year. "I do, truly, but I have been through my own hell – as has Harry – why could she not trust us?"

"When the whole school knows, I am sure she would explain. Your loopy friend saw to that!"

"HEY!" Ron poked a wand at Septimus. "LUNA HAS FAUGHT WITH US, BRAVELY I MAY HASTEN TO ADD. SHE'S NOT LOOPY!"

"Fine, I am sure I will change my mind once I get to know her more, but on first impressions she is rather... odd."

"That is a rather poor generalisation, Septimus," Ron said stiffly. Then ruined his one of his rare astute moments by saying: "Do you think Neville really is stupid enough to like a Slytherin?"

"Neville is his own man and can like whom he likes," Septimus said. "Why should he stay away from Miss Greengage if..."

"...Grass," Ginny corrected. "Miss Greengrass."

"Ah yes," of course Septimus knew who Daphne was. What irked him was having to pretend to not know. Acting as if he was a brand-new student in a school he knew most of the secrets too was _excruciatingly_ difficult. "Greengrass. As far as I am aware are they not both from powerful Pureblood families?"

"Yes," Ron spat.

"Then it should not be an issue. It is up to them and their parents or guardians what goes on."

That silenced Ron but he still twisted his wand in his hands: "She's still a Slytherin," he mumbled. "I don't trust her one inch. We have to keep on the look-out for him in case she breaks his heart."

"Weasley," Septimus smirked. "Shut up!"

Surprisingly, Ron did.

* * *

 **AN** : Next chapter, Hermione is asked to talk to McGonagall and Poppy about Luna's perceptive observation. Whilst Hermione wishes to remain silent about it she knows she mustn't. The Dark Lord brings Snape to a solo meeting where he asks his 'devoted' follower why he'd never mentioned a magical Muggleborn relative before now and orders Snape to bring him into the fold as a spy on Potter.

I understand how raw a topic this is considering the Harvey Weinstein Scandals - I also do not wish to trivialise, romantacise, or make it into a frivolity. I was sexually molested by a boy in my school. It was brief but I felt dirty for a long while afterwards...

I was a bit nervous of using Luna as the one who reveals what Hermione went through but I have a feeling that when Luna saw Hermione scared and afraid her father would have explained it the way she describes it to cover-up the atrocity of the act, with no one to contradict him she would believe him. I will not have Hermione hate Luna for her act of indiscretion or...maybe help? With Luna one never truly knows but Hermione would know that her Ravenclaw friend meant no maliciousness.


	5. Another's Second Chance

**AN: Thank you Deweydecimateher from Discord for beta-ing this for me. Also, thank you all for your patience as you deal with my slow updates but as you can see I shall do so eventually when my health and inspiration are as of one mind to allow me to write. Thank you all for supporting me.**

This is the first story in a long time I have made it to chapter five, so that is an achievement in itself!

Remember **Aiden Turner** is my Tom Riddle after Hogwarts.

* * *

 **The Second Chance Enchantment**

 **Another's Second Chance**

 **20th November 1948**

Sitting in the Albanian woods was enough to drive anyone batty. He was gracefully perched on a rat-infested mattress hanging his head in despair as hope for the lost diadem waned. Though he did not wish to use it for its famed powers—he'd had other designs on the tiara that had caused so many problems. _GODS!_ To get another chance, he'd travel to the future if he was certain he could succeed. But that last Seer he spent hours with seemed mostly doped up on Gigglewater. Useless. Bloody useless.

The weather was turning towards the autumn chill. There weren't enough blankets and he was terribly cold. If only he had Abraxas with him but no, Abraxas would use the diadem towards its own proper use. Besides, this was something he had to do all on his own.

Argh!

What he wouldn't do for a willing Witch to fall into his lap so that he could finish what he started with Olive Hornby. She was pretty. She was spiteful. He had used her pretty spiteful nature to lure Myrtle Warren into the second-floor toilets, and the plan worked. His diary was his own Horcrux and he fed his words, his personality into it every day. Even going to the town and picking up a Muggle maiden held a soothing balm to his loneliness.

No, he was Lord Voldemort! Lord Voldemort did not go into villages just to satisfy human – _mortal_ , he sneered – urges like meaningless sex.

 **** Flashback ****

"Albania?" Abraxas questioned when he was taking a snifter of high-quality brandy. "Why on earth do you want to go to that awful country for?"

Rolling his eyes he sat back against the thick cushions of the love seat, "It is to further our cause, Brax," he sighed. "Do I have the funds or not?"

"Do I have the excuse of insanity for loan…"

"Did I say anything about a loan, Brax?" His arched eyebrow sent a silent response.

Abraxas sighed as he sank down on his green wingback chair. "Fine," he muttered as he rubbed his temples. "This is for the infernal cause after all."

"The infernal cause, as you so _succinctly_ put it, is still in its early stages and I need to make myself immortal. I need the diadem to gain the wisdom to be a good leader, from what Helena told me she hid it inside a hollow tree somewhere in Albania."

"Does she not remember where?"

A nasty smirk flashed across Tom's face. "She says she was in a hurry!"

"Typical of her sex I suppose. Could not be bothered to put a marker or even…" then Abraxas paled. "Gods, my Lord, what if…?"

"What if what? Speak clearly, man!"

"What if the tree she hid it in no longer exists and is under the floorboards of some Muggle house?"

"I highly doubt even in a thousand years a Charmed tree is gone. However," Tom leaned forward clasping his hands together, "I shall entertain your supposition." He stood up and began pacing the carpet. "What if, as you say, the tree is gone and the diadem has moved on, I will simply charm my way into the home and ask the owners the history of their abode. I shall then dispose of them – but not permanently – and dig up their floorboards. Helena, however, was quite certain she had placed sufficient charms to protect the tree and its treasure. She may not have inherited her mother's lauded logic, but she still had a brain somewhere in amongst her injured pride. Easily appealed to if you suck up to her icy beauty."

Something else occurred to Abraxas. "Did not an ancestor of yours crave the Lady Helena's affection?"

"Yes, but the proud bitch did not like him."

"What was his name again?"

"I cannot recall, Abraxas," Tom sighed. "That little fact is irrelevant to the chase."

"Speaking of the chase," Abraxas smiled as he lifted his refilled glass of brandy, a French cigarette hung loosely from his left hand. Lithe and sharp-suited, the only unfashionable thing about him was his long blond hair. "Walburga was making calf-eyes at you again."

Tom groaned, "She should be happy I entertained her at all. When I found out her beauty was glamoured and she turned out to be a pasty fish I rejected her." He glanced at the grandfather clock. "I have to prepare for my journey early in the morning where I hope to rely upon your donation?"

"Ah yes," his friend also glanced at the time. "Why don't you take a girl with you. Believe me," he sighed as he gazed around his mansion, "you will need someone for the long cold nights ahead. Even if it is just a Prewitt or Weasley…"

"Think I'd join forces with either of those families…"

"Even so, my Lord, you could become a lonely beast out there in the back of beyond of the world," he scratched at his eyebrow with the hand holding his cigarette, the irritating sigh was back. "Just consider it, my Lord, I could hire an upper-class companion for you to do with as you will."

"I am sure there are Witches where I'm going, Brax," Tom grinned. "I would rather a willing Muggle than a whore who has to act."

"Just as you please," Abraxas sighed. "I have no sway over you."

Tom drained his glass and gasped with appreciation. "Good stuff, Brax, just supply me with this and I'll be a happy Wizard."

"You know what you are, my Lord, don't you?"

"Stunningly charming."

"Unfortunately, yes, but you're also contumacious."

"I live to please," Tom replied with a good-natured laugh from the depths of his belly, allowing the humour to subside into a dirty chuckle as he returned his glass to the table. "Now, I shall miss you my friend, but this is something I must do alone, you must understand that," he sighed as he patted Abraxas' back.

 ****End Flashback****

Gods, how he wished he'd taken his friend's advice on the high-class hooker.

 _I must be bored if I am just flipping through my own bloody diary_! If Abraxas was there he'd have laughed over the cruel joke in the ingredient to make a Horcrux. Virgin's blood. "Anyway, it's like this…hang on, yeah, what I thought." Like a bolt of lightning, reason had hit the brow of the young man's head, "Of course," he sighed aloud.

On his research going through the older scrolls and tomes written by and were about Salazar Slytherin, he noticed, at the bottom right hand corner on the scrap that he'd held in his fourth year, some sort of spidery scrawl emerge from the depths of the parchment, the self-same parchment that held the beginnings of the secrets of the making of a Horcrux.

"So, great grandpa held onto hope did he?" He sneered as he picked up his flask of vicious vodka. "Those are runes and…," he pulled the notes closer to his line of blurred sight, "arifan… Amirath… Arif…" he hiccupped, indicating how drunk he had become. "Fan… (hiccup) F-f-fanny Adams!" he giggled, was this vodka laced with Gigglewater? "Fancy Maths!" he finally finished feeling rather proud of himself. "S'right, Fancy Maths, s'what it is!"

Now he felt he'd worked that out he smiled like a shark. "Good at that…" he hiccupped again. "Rott (hiccup) en drink."

Even the finest of drinks was not safe from a thwarted Dark Lord. Now all he had to do was work out the sums and align them with the runes. His wand danced, intricately weaving the shapes of the runes masterfully in the air; he was not as drunk as he appeared. Despite the slurred speech, Tom Riddle Jr managed a self-assured air as he invoked the cantrip, the Runes spelled out in the air above him. Awestruck, he stood in the middle of the cabin watching as silver strands wove their way through what looked like a golden canvas.

"Wow." Hardly anything left Lord Voldemort speechless, but this was spectacular.

Suddenly he found it difficult to breathe, this was beautiful. Almost as wonderful as a perfect potion. The young man stood up and stepped under the hovering runes. Then he felt his stomach twist inside...

How was this happening?

Why were blue lights lifting him up in the air?

What was with the tornado of lightning and 70mph gale force winds?

As he landed with a thud on the edge of what seemed to be a densely tree-packed area, he had only two questions left in his brain: where the hell was he? If he woke up to annoyingly-voiced 'munchkins' leading him down some thrice-damned yellow brick road he'd curse the day Mrs Cole sent him to see that bloody film in the first place.

When was he was another accurate question filled with its own paradoxes. There were histories of Wizards and Witches going missing; what Muggles called the "twilight zone" was all too real in the Wizarding world.

Gods his head hurt, what had he done when he'd mixed magic and alcohol? Something he normally would not do – yet, he was lonely. An emotion foreign to him as he hated the socialisation that went along with going to a boarding school and living in an orphanage, but that night he felt an ache in his belly. Darkly spreading through to his still somewhat-functioning heart.

"Hello," said a voice from above him – why was he still sprawled in the ground? "Ouch." He did not need to see the wince. "Here," she said, for it was a female's voice, as she bent down and touched her wand to his forehead. "There, you should be all cleaned up now. Do you want some water?"

"Please?" he put on a parched throat effect to his voice. "Hurts."

"I am sure you're in absolute pain. I saw you being flung down on the ground! Come across Grawp?"

He coughed as she handed him a cup filled with the sweet nectar of the gods. "What the hell is a Grawp?"

The voice laughed. "Our Care of Magical Creature's professor's half-brother. A bit dumb, but he seems to like me."

How he would laugh about this later, he was sure. Sipping the water slowly he managed to crawl along the ground on his knees. The girl gasped as she spotted something terrible.

"My word you look awful," she said, kneeling down in front of him. "I need to take you to Hogwarts."

"Where am I?"

"Forbidden Forest, you should be glad you did not come across my friend who is partnering up with me. He's not nearly as observant, here," she lowered her knees and slung an arm around her shoulders, "lean on me, that's it. Now, you will excuse me."

She flicked her wand shouting out a spell that marked her as a light Witch. Shooting out from it was a cheeky silver otter that flittered and flirted with its Witch but seemed to scurry away from him. Not that it mattered. Patronii were awful things, fuzzing up his cold Dark intent and filling him up with warmth and kindness instead. He enjoyed being cold and unkind.

"Convey a message to Headmaster Dumbledore," she said, ignoring the squeeze in her shoulders. "Found another stray, contusions, bleeding, scratches and scuffs on his knees and ribs. I've cleaned where I can and have given him some water. Need assistance. Follow my Patronus."

The otter nodded at her but again snarled at him, he was pleased when the meddlesome apparition scampered off to Headmaster Dumbledore.

"When am I…Miss…er?"

"Granger," the Witch said, "my name's Hermione Granger. Gryffindor Prefect."

Gryffindor… How deliciously perfect! He would smirk if he could. This was the kind of warmth he _did_ like. Soft, curvy Witches like this one. She also seemed to have a lot of hair. Hair that would be perfect to grab onto as she was bent over a desk… he dare not let that trail of thought continue. Not when all he could determine in the dark were a pair of large eyes shining under the moon's glow, her anxiety for him etched into them. She shivered suddenly.

"Cold?" he asked as he felt the ripples of her shudder through him. Hermione nodded, affirming the query after her health with a quiet, 'yes,' and she blew on her hands. "Here," he said as a gentleman first, "my cloak…" it was the least he could do for a Witch who helped him without knowing anything about him. Compassion was a rare emotion, one of life's luxuries he had learned to live without, but when it was directed at him he could not help but latch onto the person conveying the emotion as a leech loves to suckle on human blood, and _like_ the person who showed it. "I don't mind the cold."

"Did you go to Hogwarts in the eighties?"

"Eighties?" he questioned as she refilled the cup with water, wrapping his hands around the vessel guiding it to his swollen lip. "When am I?"

"What do you mean when are you? Oh, Merlin… Concussion or amnesia? Um," he watched her sink her teeth into her lower lip, gods he never wanted to be teeth more than he did now. "Well, the year is 1996, it's November, that's why it's cold. Can't wait to get to my boyfriend," she blew on her hands again. "Sorry," he could feel her body heat, "we met in September–well, met properly in September. He was such a jerk for the first six years. Anyway, I'm babbling. I always do that when I am nervous."

"Don't stop, I-I like your voice," affecting shyness he almost never felt was as second nature to him as was breathing. "What is your boyfriend's name, so I may compliment him on good taste."

"Only you can come across a stray, Hermione," a gruff voice said in the darkness.

"Oh shut up, Ronald."

"Ronald?"

"Weasley, not that it matters to _you_."

Nice to know some things don't change, like how irksome Weasleys are. The girl was clearly annoyed by him as evidenced by her sweet huff of annoyance. "What's tak…"

"HERMIONE!" a voice shouted through the dark.

Immediately her demeanour changed, and she smiled as she abandoned him and the ginger tyke. Both of them were equally awkward in the other's company.

"SEPTIMUS!"

"Sickening, ain't it?" the Weasley said, scuffing his shoes against the stone. The only thing he knew as a rule that Weasley matrons purchased brand new at the start of the new school year. "I mean it's not like she'd have gone out with me if I'd've asked her."

 _Keep telling yourself that_ , Tom thought, but the truth of the matter was Salazar brought him to her for a reason. Clearly, that reason was that this divine Witch was meant to be his.

Suddenly a convergence of Wizards and Witches were thrust upon him. A Scottish word escaped one, a squeak the other, and one that surprisingly sounded like Slughorn – but surely that old scrote would be dead by now? He'd been teaching at Hogwarts since his mother was a baby.

"What are you even…" then it sounded like he was elbowed in the gut by someone, "right... er. I best be off then. No longer needed, see you all la…"

Then above the rising din was the stentorian tones of Albus Dumbledore silencing the panicked cacophony that had risen to such a crescendo it had pierced Tom's ears, the silence after the Headmaster's interference was almost as hurtful, the leftover effect had given several people bouts of tinnitus.

"Miss Granger is the one with the explanations, perhaps it is she who can make sense of all this. Do not go into a conniption, Minerva, stand your wand down Severus, stay right where you are, Horace, and Filius you should know better than to attempt to gnash your teeth at a stranger, remain calm. Now, Miss Granger, kindly explain what is going on here."

Tom Riddle Jr slouched against the tree enjoying the predicament he had landed in, "There is not much to say, sir," she said a little shyly as she snuggled further into Septimus' embrace, "except that Ron and I were patrolling the outer rim of the Forbidden Forest and I saw this man fall from the sky smack down on the ground. Immediately I ran to him and helped him best I could. He's hurt, sir," he heard the concern practically crawl out of her voice. "Cold, hurt and he's concussed or has obtained Amnesia, I think, he didn't know when or where he was. Perhaps," she gulped, "it would be better if we were in the Hospital Wing discussing this instead of out in the crisp autumnal air."

"Of course," the Headmaster's tone softened, it seemed she was a respected student. Definitely meant to be his. Only someone with great power could make Dumbledore sound at least a tiny bit humble. "As young Miss Granger suggests we should all move forth to the Hospital Wing."

 _Definitely meant to be mine_ , he confirmed to himself once he caught sight of her in the warm glow of the lit sconces along the halls and the torches carried by the entourage. Recognising Horace straight away, he glanced up from his lashes pretending to be innocent.

After a while they had all reached the hospital wing. Madam Pomfrey had bustled the injured stranger into a bed and pulled curtains around him and the miscellaneous group of people who had brought him in. She gave Hermione and Ron a look as if to say; 'I might've known', before going into her inventory to find the necessary potions needed to cure him.

"I'm sorry, sir," he said, "must be the amnesia but I could swear you are someone I know."

When Hermione was not looking Professor Slughorn turned around and growled, "Listen you, I can't sit by and watch it all happen again. You go and I will not breathe…"

"All right, so you've toughened up a bit since," Tom Riddle hissed. "Yet I feel you should be informed I have no intent on leaving my future bride in the hands of that hook-nosed sapling and that hyena of a Weasley. Tell me – is she part of your _club_?" he sneered. The crestfallen look on his old teacher's face said that it was so. "Oh, this is going to be good, you and Dumbledore and likely that oafish Hagrid will know who I am and yet not a single one of you can breathe a word for fear of creating a paradox, am I right? I have to stay in Hogwarts. So, tell me, Professor, how good a Witch is she?"

"Talented, bright, extremely perceptive and has been through a lot because of you so I doubt when she finds out…"

"But who's going to tell her?"

Albus Dumbledore had caught the tail end of the conversation and walked closer to the bed. "Oh but there are two others in this school who also know a lot about you, Tom Riddle. Two of her closest and dearest…"

"If you want me to keep quiet about you, Dumbledore, you have to remain silent about me and order those two to keep their mealy mouths shut. Unless you want the whole world to know about you and a certain Dark Wizard who terrorized the Wizarding world long before I was even born."

"You wouldn't!"

"Wouldn't I?"

Such an innocent expression befell Tom Riddle's face at the moment his Witch granted him a smile of such beguiling kindness that he could not help but send one back with a wink.

"Hermione, you have been so kind to me. For reminding me of how Hogwarts is always open to those in need, come here," he beckoned her with his finger and like she was iron nails to his magnet, she walked over to his bed and took his hand. "So beautiful," he whispered. "You're just so, sweetly beautiful, I shall dream of beauty tonight for I now know what she looks like."

The moment he heard that Septimus stepped up and wrapped an arm around her shoulders, "Find someone nearer your own age," he said with jealousy itching through his fingertips. This smarmy Wizard had a face one could merrily punch. "Come on, Hermione, let's go back to our Common Room."

"Sorry about this, sir, um… what is your name?"

"I can't remember," he said, "but you'll be the first to know the moment it comes to me." She was ever so sweet when she smiled, and that was a perfect alibi she gave him in having amnesia. It meant he could swan around Hogwarts with her as she helped him 'remember' and when she was suitably torn from her suitor he would be there to help fix her broken heart as he would piece it all together. "How about you get some rest now, and I've been told a mug of hot chocolate can _always_ make things better. Isn't that right?"

This question was deliberately aimed at Dumbledore, "Yes, I shall make sure one is sent to you immediately, Miss Granger."

"I wouldn't want to be any trouble, sir."

 _Too late_ , smirked Tom Riddle Jr as he laid his head in his hands, resting against the comfortable pillows, "Quite a lovely girl. I can't remember if we had them made from the same mould as her in my day – can you Professors?"

"Miss Granger is completely off-limits to you," snapped Professor Snape.

Judging by the look on Professor Snape's face he was certain that he'd struck a nerve. As for Miss Granger, she was his for the taking – even if she did not know what was good for her now, she'd know in time. He could charm the birds from the trees with just a smile. It seemed somewhere along the way he'd lost Slughorn, not that that was a great loss.

"Hermione, the feminine derivative of Hermes the winged messenger of the Gods," he smirked, "god of travellers, thieves, trickery, heraldry and trade. If she is anything like her namesake she will be quite a catch and like a fisherman waiting patiently for the fabled trout so shall I wait for her."

Horace grabbed him by the shirtfront. "You're despicable, Riddle."

"Ah but that's not my name, that _can't_ be my name."

"Maybe so," he threw the young man back against the pillows, eyes gleaming with the look of a man who wished to commit murder right here and now. "But that woman, that Witch, is not yours."

"If I see something or someone I want…"

Deliberately, Riddle let the sentence trail off into the air, remaining unfinished, the ghost of words unspoken yet heard in the ears of those who listened. A threat that picked out the worst trait of the man. That ever-present smirk plastered across his face seemingly effortless in his disgusting parody of innocence.

"I wish you had never darkened the corridors of this fine establishment," hissed Slughorn.

"Just remember," he said, "you don't know who I am."

As Horace was about to throttle him he was held back by both Severus Snape and Headmaster Dumbledore, "He's not worth it," Severus said as he glanced spitefully at Tom.

He watched as the three men who knew who he was without introduction walked out of the Hospital Wing. He was about to get up to sneak down to the second-floor corridor to check his basilisk when the nurse walked in.

"Drink up," she said, "you have to regain your strength."

He did not know this Healer at all, she looked to be a proper Hufflepuff, a house easy to corrupt if one knew the right way to go about things. A sprinkle of charm, a soupçon of loyalty with the essence of honeyed phrases and they were yours for the taking.

"Of course I shall," he simpered making his voice sound faint. "I shall be yours if you desire it."

The nurse actually blushed and preened under his deep voice. "A lucky Witch'll have you someday," she giggled. "You'd make an attentive husband."

 _Believe me, I'm working on it_ , he thought darkly as he gulped down the foul concoction that would ease his pain and help him sleep. _I've even met her. Behold the day when Miss Granger becomes Mrs Riddle for that is when I have conquered the best part of the world_.

It was with this cheery thought that he slipped off into delightful slumber, Morpheus had closed his eyes and opened his mind, he planned well when asleep for that was when his subconscious picked up on things his conscious self, missed.

Little things, like Hermione's eyes slipping appreciative looks at his semi-naked body; like the manner in which Professor Snape kept an eye on the young Witch as much as he possibly could; the heat of hatred emanating forth from Dumbledore's eyes when he mentioned his past association; and the glimmer of murderous intent in the Weasley's eyes, that one was jealous, he could work with that; lastly, he could see how Hagrid had blundered in only to bluster his way out again.

Yes, this could be loads of fun, just the sort he was pining for when he was in that infernal shack all those years ago.

* * *

 **AN** : There is going to be one more sting into the tail before the story can be carried forward.


End file.
